Dreams and Fantasies
by Michaelmas54
Summary: Being the subject of other people's dreams & fantasies is not all its cracked up to be as Edward soon finds out, but will the experience change him for the better? A story with a good dose of humor, a helping of angst, plenty of drama & a lot of love, with some Shakespeare thrown in for good measure. Completed story (110k words) updated every Saturday. Rec'd by FicSisters TLS & ADF
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

******Huge Love to the FicSisters, The Lemonade Stand and A Different Forest for recommending this story.**

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**CHAPTER ONE: Norton, Nails and Nuts**

"Do I really have to do it?"

"Yes, Edward, The Graham Norton Show is the most popular talk show in the UK. It's great publicity, whether you think your movie needs it or not."

"Can't you get me out of it; say I'm ill or something?"

"Absolutely not, when you signed on to do the movie you agreed to promotion; it's part of that commitment. You've already been paid handsomely for doing both as you well know. It'll be fun; most celebrities have a ball on that show."

Edward ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he responded negatively to his agent's reassurances.

"You know I loathe talk shows, Jasper. I hate answering inane questions in front of a live audience, and I can't stand being polite to vacuous people when I'd rather not be in the same room as them. Why the fuck do actors have to do promotional tours now, anyway? Steve McQueen never had to suffer this shit?"

Jasper didn't answer, but rolled his eyes to heaven as he rested his head on the comfortable first class seat. He turned his face away from his scowling client and gazed out of the window at the brilliant bright blue sky, then downwards onto the impenetrable layer of fluffy white clouds that blocked the view of the ice-cold North Atlantic thirty-five thousand feet below. He glanced at his watch, which was still on EST, and worked out that they still had four hours flying time before touching down at Heathrow. Then it would be straight into the next leg of the promotional tour for Edward's latest movie, and he was not looking forward to it one bit.

After the hugely successful premiere in LA, they had promoted the movie in several US and Canadian cities, ending up in New York that morning for an interview at 8 a.m. on Good Morning America, then it was straight from the studio to JFK for the flight to London. He had already spent eight tortuous days in the company of this sulky, spoiled, arrogant, shit of a movie star, who had complained about anything and everything at every opportunity. He wasn't looking forward to the rest of the tour, which would take in the UK premiere and promotional events in London and Paris.

Jasper's individual first class pod seat was alongside Edward's, but he had removed the privacy screen between them so they could go over the schedule for Europe while they were travelling. He could see Edward pressing his call button for service and a flight attendant was quickly on hand to take his order for yet another Jack Daniels. Edward had been drinking steadily since leaving New York and Jasper was quite concerned he might be over-doing it. He declined an offered top up to his orange juice and the attendant disappeared to get Edward's drink.

"Don't you think you've had enough, Edward" he whispered. There'll be paparazzi at the airport and you don't want to look like shit when you're walking through the terminal."

"I don't give a fuck about paparazzi, and anyway, when do I ever look like shit, Jasper? Haven't I just been voted the sexiest man alive by GQ for the third year running? It'll take more than a few J.D's to knock that crown off my head, so don't fucking nag."

Jasper squeezed his chair arm, wishing it was Edward's neck. He breathed deeply and started counting backwards from a hundred to calm himself down, then went back to his paperwork to read through Edward's schedule again. It was going to be a busy week for Edward, but a punishing week for him, with meetings and interviews filling up most of his days with hardly any free time available. He didn't mind working flat out, but being with Edward practically 24/7 was wearing him down, as it was like having to cope with a spoiled child that he wasn't allowed to chastise.

Jasper took a sip of orange juice and thought back to the day when Edward signed up with his agency almost twelve years previously. He was twenty five years old when he first met Edward Cullen, when he arrived at his office as a good-looking stage-school trained child actor. Edward was already reasonably well-known throughout the States because of some high-profile roles on television sit-com's. His pushy and very wealthy parents were eager for him to break into the lucrative teen-flick market when he turned sixteen. Therefore he had walked away from the nurturing protection of his stage school earlier than other students, and before graduating.

Edward had needed a professional agent quickly after he was offered a part in the first movie he auditioned for, and Jasper had taken him on after a very brief interview with Edward and his obnoxious parents, who had to be involved as Edward was still technically a minor. He put Edward's moodiness and arrogance that day down to normal teenage hormones, but unfortunately Edward's attitude hadn't changed as he grew into adulthood.

His amazing success had only fueled Edward's self-belief he was the best thing to happen to the movie industry since Rudolph Valentino. Unfortunately for Jasper, this was actually quite near to the truth. He had to live with the consequences of having a client who was probably the most talented, hard-working and best looking actor of his generation, with the added trauma that he was a big-headed tyrant who thought he was God's gift to womankind.

If Jasper could have walked away from him he would have, but he had an ex-wife who was bleeding him dry, plus two daughters who amazingly still thought the world of him, despite the best efforts of their bitch-whore mother Kate. She belittled him in front of the girls at every opportunity, even though she was the one who was caught with her pants down! The small cut of Edward's earnings he was entitled to receive, which was still a substantial amount of money, just about kept his head above water, which was why he put up with the verbal abuse and childish tantrums from his difficult, but very lucrative, client.

When Edward's glass needed re-filling again, rather than call the steward and get another ear-bashing from Jasper, he got up from his seat and ambled towards the drinks bar which was situated between Business and First Class. Jasper watched his progress down the aisle, concerned that he might not be able to walk in a straight line. He was curious when he saw Edward stop at one of the pods and stare at whoever was sitting there. He didn't move for about fifteen seconds, and as far as Jasper could tell, he didn't say anything to the passenger, but continued towards the bar where he ordered another drink. From where he was sitting, Jasper couldn't see who had grabbed Edward's attention because of the way the pods were arranged; all he could see was a pair of empty grey Converse trainers dangling over the end of the footrest into the aisle, but he couldn't tell whether the shoes belonged to either a male or female.

Edward returned to his seat with another drink and a container of nuts. After a couple of minutes of silence, broken only by the sound of him tapping himself on the forehead as though he was trying to remember something, he turned towards Jasper with one of his forced smiles on his face.

"There's a girl down there with bright blue nail polish on her toes that I wouldn't mind talking to. Go speak to her and tell her to come up here and she can sit in your seat for a while and you can sit in hers."

Jasper shot him a look of incredulity.

"Are you serious? Go and talk to her yourself; our contract doesn't say anything about me being your dating service!"

"Oh, go on, Jasper. I don't want to chat her up with an audience listening. Anyway she looks familiar. I'm sure I've seen her somewhere before."

"No, Edward, I'm not doing it. I'm your agent not your servant."

"Please, please, pretty please, Jasper." Edward set his mouth in a childish pout and fluttered his long eyelashes jokingly.

Jasper looked up to heaven, knowing from past experience that Edward would keep on at him until he relented. He reluctantly unbuckled his belt and rose from his seat, wondering again why he'd chosen a career as 'agent to the rich and arrogant.' After he had walked up to the girl, who was engrossed in a book, he coughed gently and said "excuse me" to gain her attention.

Edward watched Jasper intently as he leaned over into the girl's pod so he could talk to her discreetly. He could tell by Jasper's head and hand movements that he was having a discussion with her, then he saw Jasper straighten up. But instead of exchanging seats with the girl, as Edward presumed he would do, he made his way back to his own seat where he settled himself down again. The smug look that was spread across Jasper's face didn't go unnoticed by Edward.

"Well?"

"She didn't want to come; she's reading a book."

"What did she actually say?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes!"

"I said that you would really like the pleasure of her company, or words to that effect, and she said, '"Tell him to go fuck himself."'

Edward looked flustered at this and hissed, "Didn't you say who I am?"

"Yes of course I did. She laughed then asked me to go away, very impolitely I may add."

Edward huffed and wriggled in his seat. He turned his attention back to the movie he was watching, but after a few minutes he dragged the earphones out of his ears and threw them across his seat angrily. He picked up the in-flight magazine and perused that for a few minutes, then flung it down on the floor.

Jasper was trying to contain himself, as Edward not getting his own way with a woman was unheard of, and the temptation to laugh out loud was becoming almost uncontrollable.

"Who does she fucking think she is?" he spat.

"She's Isabella Swan, an actress; I recognized her right away."

"I've never heard of her, so she can't be that famous."

"She's a very well-known stage actress, Edward; you know live theater; that thing they used to do before they invented celluloid. She's just finished a very successful run on Broadway and her play is transferring to London. You may have read about her in one of the trade magazines recently. Perhaps, if you took the time to set foot inside a theater one day and see what stage actors actually do, it might broaden your mind seeing and appreciating real talent?"

"Are you suggesting I'm ignorant and untalented, Jasper?" Edward's face was turning slightly purple and a large vein appeared on his forehead, which was always a sign he was furious.

"No, Edward, I'm just saying that your profession is not only about acting in movies. You should go see a theater production while you're in London. Then you might appreciate the skill involved in performing to a live audience and having to memorize the words of a whole play, not just learning a script scene by scene."

"So that's it; this Isabella Swan thinks she's better than me does she? Well, we'll soon see about that." Edward went to rise out of his seat.

"Leave it, Edward; just take it like a man that Isabella Swan is the only female on the planet who isn't interested in you, either professionally or sexually."

Jasper turned his face towards the window and smirked. He was thoroughly enjoying Edward's discomfort and was relishing stirring the angry pot with a big ladle, as it was an opportunity too good to miss. He guessed that Edward wasn't going to leave it though, as his ego was the size of Mount Rushmore and he couldn't lose this game. Hopefully this girl would persist with giving him the brush-off and Edward would learn a valuable lesson in humility.

Edward stood up and straightened his shirt and made to walk up to her seat, but Jasper grabbed hold of his arm as he passed him.

"For heaven's sake don't cause a scene, Edward. There are media people and reporters on the plane who may overhear what's going on, or get to hear about any confrontation you may have with Isabella from the crew or other passengers. Do you really want the fact a beautiful young woman has resisted your charms on the front of all the tabloids tomorrow? Are you that stupid?"

Edward glared at Jasper and leaned over his seat so their noses were nearly touching.

"Don't you ever call me stupid again, Jasper, or I'll find myself a new agent; I'm warning you!"

Jasper glared back at him, then smiled smugly.

"If you can find a new agent who can put up with your tantrums and all the other shit you send my way, be my guest, Edward."

They stared at each other until Edward broke eye contact and turned away from him. He swaggered down the aisle to where Isabella Swan was sitting and made as if he was going to walk past her pod, then turned to look at her but didn't say a word. He could see Jasper watching him over the heads of the other travelers, who fortunately were either asleep or engrossed in a movie, so at this point nobody else was aware what was just about to go down.

Edward flipped Jasper the bird and looked at the brunette beauty, who was still totally unaware of his presence. He was going to say something to her immediately, but instead he made use of the illicit time he had to scrutinize Isabella before she noticed him.

He studied every inch of her; from her luscious mahogany hair that was tucked behind her ears and fell in curls almost to her waist, to her small but curvaceous body, casually dressed in a plain grey hooded top and faded jeans; down to her bare toes and the bright blue nail polish.

Isabella carried on reading her book until it was time to turn over the page, when she looked up and saw Edward standing there gazing down at her.

"Can I help you?" she asked as she laid the book on her lap.

"I invited you to come and sit with me – why didn't you come?"

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"No, you sent your lackey to ask me. If you'd have taken the trouble to invite me yourself, I might have considered it, but you didn't have the manners to ask. So why should I want to spend time with an impolite, gutless individual, who doesn't have the balls to approach me himself? Now please leave me alone, you're disturbing me."

Edward's mouth dropped open as she spoke. He stared angrily at her as she picked up her book and carried on reading as if he wasn't there.

"So, high and mighty _'Lady'_ Isabella Swan; the superior stage actress who doesn't lower herself to consort with common movie actors, is that the problem we have here? Am I not cultured enough to be in your esteemed company?"

Edward bowed from the waist in mock-servitude as Isabella slung her book to one side in frustration.

"No _'Mr'_ Edward Cullen, I'm not the one with a problem here. I just choose not to mix with rude, arrogant individuals who think they can snap their fingers and everyone will rush to do their bidding. So just fuck off and leave me alone, or I'll call the steward and have you restrained."

Edward bent over her and hissed in her ear. "You don't really want to do that; do you, Is-a-bell-a?"

"That's it you fuckwit; I'm calling the steward."

Edward grabbed her hand as she went to press the call button, and as he touched her, a jolt of energy shot up his arm and through his body. He gazed into Isabella's dark brown eyes as she struggled, and a feeling washed over him that he was drowning in a deep pool of warm water. For a fleeting moment he didn't know what the hell was happening to him.

Isabella pulled her hand away from him and drew a quick breath. She had felt the electric charge as well, but the shock of Edward actually touching her and preventing her from calling the steward put her in fighting mode. She picked up her full glass of coke and slung it all over his face and white linen shirt.

"Holy shit!" Edward cried as he jumped backwards to try and avoid getting soaked, but ended up colliding with a steward, who was passing directly behind him with a tray of drinks. The tray went up in the air, drowning the steward and a dozing passenger with wine and assorted nuts. Within seconds there was uproar, as other members of the crew rushed to the scene with cleaning equipment, clearing up the mess quickly and efficiently, while trying to calm the irate passenger who was picking cashews and peanuts from his clothes and hair.

Edward held his hands up in surrender and backed away from Isabella, who by now was out of her seat and seething with anger. He turned around and was walking quickly back to his own seat when he heard Isabella shout out above the heads of the other passengers.

"Have you even considered apologizing for what you just did? No, I thought you hadn't, you ignorant bastard!"

He turned to say something, but Jasper grabbed hold of his arm and forcibly pushed him into his seat.

"Sit down, stay there, don't move a muscle. I'm going to have to sort this goddamn mess out, so for once in your life do as I say, or you really can find another agent as soon as we land."

Edward resisted for a moment, then relented with a petulant huff as Jasper disappeared down the aisle. He snatched his earphones up and restarted the movie, but couldn't concentrate on what was playing on the screen in front of him. His mind was filled with images of Isabella's chocolate-brown eyes and heart-shaped face, which he had memorized during those precious seconds before she noticed him, and before her face turned red with anger. Then he recalled the jolt of pure energy that had coursed through his body when he touched her; a feeling he had never experienced before. He ran his left hand over his right bicep, just to check whether it was generating any more heat than his other limbs, which of course it wasn't, but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as though he had over-dosed on adrenaline.

He pressed the button which controlled the rake of his seat, and within a few seconds he was lying almost flat. Then he closed his eyes so he could concentrate on recalling what had just happened in the last few minutes.

Who was this fire cracker of a girl who had rejected him so spectacularly? Being turned down so emphatically, then verbally and physically assaulted, was new territory for him and he didn't know how to handle it. She was beautiful, yes; talented, obviously; so, like him, was she fed up with being constantly hit on by the opposite sex, and had reacted exactly as if a random woman had tried to hit on him in the same way? If that was the case then he felt a bit better about her initial reaction to his invitation, but he was still angry she felt he was to blame for the 'wine' incident, as she was the one who threw the first drink.

He sensed Jasper had returned to his seat, so he opened his eyes and moved his seat upright in preparation for the fall out. Jasper ignored him, remaining silent as he picked up the remote to flick through the movie channels to find something to watch for the final hours of the journey. After a few minutes of being ignored, Edward couldn't contain himself any longer and demanded to know what had happened.

Jasper turned to him with a look of sheer contempt on his face.

"Fortunately for you, Miss Swan is not pressing charges for assault and the air crew are also not going to file a report. You behaved abominably back there, Edward, and any decent person would have apologized to everyone concerned.

"You're exactly what Miss Swan called you; an ignorant bastard. You haven't got an ounce of humility in your body and you just can't handle not getting your own way. I suggest you sit quietly in your seat for the rest of the journey, which will give you time to concoct a story in your over-indulged brain that will convince your conscience, if you have one, that none of this was your fault as usual. While you're doing that, if you don't mind, I'm going to watch a movie for the rest of the flight and I don't want to be disturbed."

Edward opened his mouth to respond with a smart-ass retort, but for once thought better of it. Jasper had put his earphones in and had turned in his seat so his back was to Edward, effectively preventing any chance of hearing the response to his cutting remarks, so Edward was left alone with his thoughts for the rest of the journey.

Within the space of a few minutes, his agent had turned on him spectacularly, giving him some home-truths about his attitude, and had threatened to dump him as a client. He had also met the first girl who had ever rejected him, and damn it to heaven, she had lit a fire in his belly that he couldn't comprehend. Was it the thrill of the chase? Did he only want her so his unblemished record of conquests remained at 100% success rate, or was there something else there, something he had never experienced before?

He recalled the saying that 'the eyes are the window to the soul', and he had seen something in those beautiful, brown eyes that intrigued him. He squeezed his own eyes tightly shut when he recalled the look of disgust she threw at him as he backed off from the wine disaster. He accepted then that if he wanted to find out more about Isabella Swan, in order to establish any sort of future relationship with her, he would have to be prepared to do a serious amount of grovelling.

But, he had never grovelled to get a woman before; it was against his nature to do such a thing. He resolved then to try to forget about _Lady_ Isabella Swan, the Doyenne of Broadway, and be content with what he had now, which was a harem of beautiful, willing women in Hollywood, who just sat by their cell phones waiting for his call. It had worked for him for the past ten years, so why change the habit of a lifetime because of one girl?

"Chances are our paths are highly unlikely to cross again," he muttered under his breath.

But of course they were.

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**A/N: I hope you have enjoyed the introduction to my new story. It will be a bumpy ride, so be prepared!**

**E****dward is not a nice guy to be around, but maybe there's a reason he's like this? Bella is a feisty character, which means there are definitely fireworks ahead if these guys hook up!**

**This story is already complete (24 chapters - around 105k words) and I will update every Saturday, without fail. Occasionally I will post two chapters at once, as those of you who have read my previous stories know that I do like ending with a cliffie! **

**Huge Thanks to my pal Caroline for checking the story over for me and correcting my (many) errors. Also thanks to everyone at The International House of Fanfiction site for 'Elevating' Dreams on its publication day. If you haven't checked out this brilliant blog, get your butts over there, it's a really cool place to be.**

**Reviews are always a pleasure to receive, so thank you in advance if you feel inclined. I promise I will answer every review.**

**Joan (aka Michaelmas54) xx**


	2. Chapter 2

******Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

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**CHAPTER TWO – Hangovers, Hotels and Heathens**

Edward woke at 9 a.m., London time, in an unbelievably comfortable bed, lying on his back, staring at the ornate ceiling of his sumptuous bedroom. He was staying in his usual suite at The Savoy, which was one of the oldest and grandest hotels in London. It was situated in the West End, just off The Strand, and very centrally placed for all the events he was due to attend in London over the next three days. The Savoy was quintessentially British, and his favorite hotel in the world, bar none.

He could tell, without moving his head, he was hungover. This was hardly surprising, considering the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed on the plane. To make matters worse, he had also taken part in another long drinking session last night, courtesy of Emmett McCarty, his director. Emmett was accompanying Edward on parts of this tour, and had joined Edward and Jasper for a late dinner when they arrived at the hotel. 'Dinner' had lasted five hours, with Jasper giving up after three. Edward winced when he recalled the amount of alcohol he and Emmett consumed, and made a mental note never to try and out-drink that man, ever again.

Emmett was in his late fifties. He was a huge man in body and personality; he was also a hardened drinker who drank all day, every day, but consistently managed to appear sober and in total control of his faculties at all times. It was a phenomenon that was a complete mystery to all who knew him. He joked that when he died, rather than having a funeral, he was leaving his body to medical science. The scientists could then unravel his secret of permanent sobriety for the benefit of future generations of hardened drinkers; which to him would be a better legacy to leave the world than a string of successful movies.

Edward could just about remember getting into bed at about 3 a.m., and was out cold as soon as his head hit the pillow. During the previous evening his thoughts had constantly been going back to the verbal lashing he received from Isabella, and also the withering look she had given him when she exited the plane. It was as if to say 'If you come within ten feet of me, your balls will end up so far inside your body they'll never see the light of day again.' He had been concerned he might not be able to sleep because of the fantasies involving being with her that were occupying his mind, but Jack Daniels had the upper hand over Isabella Swan last night and he had slept soundly.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and shoved his hands into his boxers to rearrange himself before he went in the bathroom. He was semi-hard, which was unusual, as he normally woke up with a raging erection, even when he slept on his own. He put the semi-situation partly down to his excessive alcohol intake, and, as far as he could remember, he hadn't dreamt at all during the night.

Eventually he stood up slowly, gauging, before he took a step forward, whether he was capable of making it to the bathroom without incident. As the room wasn't spinning, he deemed it safe to take a step, and then another.

The hot spray of the shower woke him fully, and he took care of his semi, while fantasizing he was ravaging Isabella, consensually of course, in full view of everyone in First Class. When he finally felt awake, clean and 'relaxed', he wrapped himself in a towel and wandered back into the bedroom. He flicked on the flat screen TV to see what was happening in the world, called room service and ordered breakfast.

About an hour later, he had finished eating, and was resting with his feet up on the sofa, reading the complimentary London newspapers that had been delivered with his breakfast. He was flicking through one of the more highbrow editions, when he spotted a picture of Isabella receiving an award. The half-page article reported that the production of '_The Taming of the Shrew_', which had been an unexpected and massive hit on Broadway, was transferring to London for a short season at the National Theatre, then to Stratford-on-Avon, the birthplace of Shakespeare and home of The Royal Shakespeare Company. Isabella's interpretation of Katherina had already earned her a Tony Award, Broadway's equivalent of an Oscar, and tickets for her performances in both London and Stratford were like gold dust.

Edward shook his head and scoffed as he read the article. He couldn't believe the young girl wearing ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, who had told him to 'fuck off' in no uncertain terms, was the same person being described here as a 'twenty-five year old phenomenon' and the acting equivalent to Opera's Maria Callas.

As he read the gushing reports of Isabella's talent in practically every newspaper that had an arts section, he heard her name mentioned on the television that was still on in his bedroom. He leapt from the sofa and sprinted across the room, just in time to see Isabella's face disappearing from the screen. It occurred to him then, Isabella's presence and forthcoming performance in London was the big news in town; thoroughly eclipsing his own arrival and forthcoming premiere.

He was not happy!

Jasper arrived in his suite to go over the schedule for the day. The junket interviews for numerous magazines and TV channels would be taking place in a room on another floor in the hotel from 1 p.m. After which, Jasper had slotted in about two hours rest for Edward, then they would go to the BBC studios to record The Graham Norton Show, which was due to be aired on British television the following evening.

Edward had seen this show many times as it was broadcast in the States, so he was curious to know who would be on Graham's sofa with him. Unlike most American talk shows, Graham Norton interviewed his guests together, expertly playing one off against the other. It made for a lively show if the celebrities gelled.

"So who's on the show with me, Jasper?" Edward looked over to Jasper, who was tapping a text message into his cell phone.

"Ummm, an author and an actor I believe, I'm not sure," he responded evasively.

"An author?"

"Yes, Edward; an 'author' is someone who writes books!"Jasper did the air-quotes thing to emphasize the word.

"I know what a fucking author is asshole. Who would want to hear what an author has to say on a talk show? Boring!"

"You're saying the public wouldn't be interested to hear what J.K. Rowling had to say, or E.L. James, or Tolkein if he was still alive?"

"Well okay, maybe those few, but who else? Is the author male or female?"

"Female."

"Is she fuckable?"

"For heaven's sake, Edward, stop thinking with your dick for once! I don't know; she might be in her seventies, for all I know."

"Great. This looks like it's going to be a _lot_ of fun," Edward huffed sarcastically.

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After three hours of junket interviews, and being asked the same generic questions over and over again by journalists and presenters, Edward was ready to kill someone as he was so fed up.

When the final ten-minute session was over, he made his way back to his suite and face-planted himself on the bed with his pillow over his head. Two hours later, which seemed like two minutes to Edward, Jasper was pounding on his door to wake him up and whisk him off to the BBC studios where he could shower and change.

He was greeted at the BBC entrance by the Studio Manager, who escorted him into the building. Edward turned to wave at a group of fans who had been congregating outside for several hours, but didn't bother going over to talk to them. He was shown to a small but well-appointed dressing room, where his suit and other personal items were already in place. After he had showered, a nameless girl from make-up came and did what she needed to do, which wasn't much on Edward's face. After she left, he was brushing his hair when there was a knock at the door and Graham Norton called a greeting from outside.

Edward opened the door and Graham bounded in. He shook his hand enthusiastically, saying how pleased he was to meet him at last, and that tonight's show was going to be _awesome_!

As Edward was still in the dark as to who the other two guests were, he asked Graham straight out.

"What! You mean you don't know?" Graham responded in his soft Irish accent.

"No, that's why I'm asking you, Graham!"

"Well, Edward, there's the famous author Alice Brandon, who has just written a bestselling book called _Dreams and Fantasies_."

"I've never heard of it," Edward responded dismissively.

"Ah! But you're a guy. Millions of women around the world have read the book. It's a romantic novel and reference book combined. It's about a girl who has dreams and fantasies regarding her lovers, past, present and her imagined future, but you also get an analysis of what her dreams actually mean. It's a very sexy read."

"So _you've_ read it? I thought you said it was for women?"

Graham rolled his eyes to heaven. "A lot of men have read it as well. _I_ thoroughly enjoyed it, and it's very enlightening to find out what your dreams and fantasies really mean, don't you agree?"

Edward shrugged his shoulders, as he wasn't really that interested, and couldn't actually remember when he had last read a book cover to cover.

"So, what is Alice Brandon like; is she young, old, fat, thin, gay, straight?"

Graham was a bit surprised at the question, but took it with good humor.

"She's probably about thirty, tiny, bubbly, but a bit weird. She wears lots of crystals around her neck and has some strange markings on her hands, but apart from that, she's a sweetheart."

"Okay, what about the other guest?"

"Oh, I'm sure you've heard of her: Isabella Swan; she's a very famous stage actress."

"What!"

"Isabella Swan, she's huge news here. British people love the theater and she's a breath of fresh air; a young Judy Dench or Maggie Smith, apparently. Do you know her?"

Edward was lost for words but he managed to mumble, "We met briefly on the flight over yesterday."

"Can I mention that on the show, Edward?"

"_No_! I mean I would rather you didn't. We had a bit of a misunderstanding, so I'd be grateful if you presumed we hadn't met before."

"Err, okay. Anything else you want to disclose before we get to the studio?"

"No, not really, I'm just here to talk about the movie, nothing else."

Edward was trying to be polite, but he just wanted Graham to leave. He could feel anger building up inside of him, as it was obvious Jasper had kept him in the dark about Isabella being on the show. He was seriously considering collecting his things together and walking out.

"Alright, Edward, well you'll have a chance to meet up with Alice and Isabella in the Green Room about an hour before we start recording. We'll be serving drinks there, so you can loosen up and get to know each other prior to the show."

"Okay, Graham, thanks," Edward grunted as Graham left. Edward saw Jasper hovering outside, so he grabbed him by his lapels and dragged him into the room.

"You fucking asshole! You knew Isabella was on the show this evening, didn't you, and you didn't warn me?"

"So, what would you have done Edward? Would you have bailed; taken the coward's way out?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're frightened by her; she intimidates you, doesn't she?"

"That's bullshit!"

"So, what's the problem; why are you getting so worked up? You're both professionals; you're not going to let a little spat on the plane carry over to tonight, are you?"

"No, well, as long as she doesn't mention it, and I don't have to sit next to her."

"I think you will be sitting next to her; it'll be girl, guy, girl on Graham's sofa."

Edward slung himself into the one and only armchair and grabbed handfuls of his hair in frustration. He didn't like not being in control of situations, and he couldn't foresee how this evening was going to pan out well.

He wasn't prepared to apologize to Isabella, because even now he didn't think he'd done anything wrong. He was almost prepared to make the first move; to draw a line under the incident and start again with a clean sheet.

Even though he had tried to fight it, he hadn't stopped thinking about her since yesterday. Now, unexpectedly, he was going to meet her again, and he wanted to make a good impression this time.

Eventually, he stood up and opened the door onto the corridor.

"Jasper, just leave – get out. I want to be alone for a while. I'll see you in the Green Room in half an hour. If Isabella is already there, can you let me know somehow what sort of mood she's in? She's probably feeling as wound up as I am."

"That's unusually considerate of you, Edward. Can I detect a bit of adult maturity creeping in, or is this a cunning plan to make people believe you care about other people's feelings for a change?"

"Just fuck off, you asshole, and Jasper, if you pull a stroke like that ever again, I _will_ find a new agent, or manage without one. Just remember who's paying your kids' school fees, and Kate's alimony."

"Okay Edward, I'm fucking off. I'll see you in the Green Room in half an hour, and if Isabella scares you again, I promise to hold your hand until the naughty lady goes away!"

Jasper left the room, chortling, just missing the impact of the door that was slammed behind him. This left a scowling Edward, wondering why the hell he was so agitated about seeing Isabella again.

He'd had arguments with lots of people before, usually on film sets, and confrontation had never bothered him. So, was it meeting Isabella in person again that he was worried about, or that he didn't know whether he could disguise the fascination he had developed for her? She already had the upper hand as far as their careers were concerned, as he was yet to win an Oscar or any other major award. He didn't want her to guess she had an emotional advantage over him as well.

He grabbed his suit and clean shirt off the hanger and dressed himself, taking care not to smudge his TV make up or get it on his clothes. He looked at himself admiringly in the full-length mirror and was pleased at the reflection. He knew he was naturally handsome, thanks to his parents; with a great body, thanks to his personal trainer. His charcoal grey Gucci suit hung beautifully off his broad shoulders and, as he had decided not to wear a tie, he purposely left a few buttons of his shirt undone so a light smattering of chest hair could be seen. He ran his long fingers through his dark auburn hair, then over the light stubble on his jaw. When he was satisfied this was the best he was going to look, he took a deep breath and exited the room.

Waiting for him in the corridor was a BBC employee who escorted him to the Green Room. As the door opened, he saw Jasper standing near the bar with a drink in his hand, talking to a tiny, dark-haired woman who was dressed in a full-length, midnight-blue, kaftan-like gown. Around her neck were several long silver necklaces, from which crystals or unusual charms were dangling. Her wrists and ankles were adorned with gold and silver anklets and bracelets and the back of her hands were covered in henna markings.

Edward guessed correctly this was the author, Alice Brandon; her appearance instantly reminded him of the singer Kate Bush, as she had an unusual, mystical quality about her. He could tell, by observing Jasper's body language, that he was mesmerized by this strange, slip of a woman, and he was so absorbed with her that he hadn't noticed Edward had arrived.

Edward's eyes quickly scanned the rest of the room. He was relieved to see Isabella wasn't there, so he made his way over to the bar and asked for a whiskey on the rocks. He then found one of the leather couches and sat down on his own. He heard the door open and his shoulders immediately tensed up, but it was the band that was booked to play at the end of the show which burst into the room. The boys came straight over to shake his hand, greeting him like a long-lost brother, and then converged on the bar to see whether they could drink it dry.

With one eye on the door at all times, he sat there nervously contemplating what he would say to Isabella when she walked in. He swirled the ice around in the glass with the swizzle stick, but wasn't inclined to take a sip, as he needed all his wits about him for the next couple of hours. He saw the door handle turn again and his heart started pounding in his chest, but this time it was Graham, now wearing an outrageously sparkly jacket and black trousers, clutching a large bottle of Champagne in his hand. He bounced around the room like the Energiser Bunny, until he spotted Edward sitting on his own, then he plonked himself next to him on the couch.

Edward was politely listening to Graham talking about what was going to happen on the show, when he felt, rather than saw, Isabella standing in front of him. He looked up and saw her beautiful face smiling down at him, then noticed she was extending her open hand towards him.

"Hello, Edward, I'm Isabella Swan. I've heard a lot about you and I'm very pleased to meet you at last."

"Um, um, um, err, Hi, Isabella," Edward replied, as he pulled himself up off the couch and took Isabella's hand in his to shake. As their hands touched he sensed the energy was there again, but not so intense this time.

Instead of shaking hands and letting go as normal, they just stood there holding hands for a few seconds, staring at each other, until Graham coughed, breaking the spell; then he patted them both on the back, grinned and walked away.

"Actually I prefer to be called Bella, but I don't mind either. Do you prefer to be called Ed or Eddie?"

"No, I prefer Edward. I've never been called anything else. Look, I'm really sorry about what happened on the plane, Bella; I'm afraid I was a bit drunk and tired, and I behaved like an asshole. Can we start again?"

"I think that's what I was already trying to do, Edward," Bella replied with a grin. "Let's just forget about what happened before. Shall we go and talk to Alice Brandon and...oh, it's your agent."

"My lackey, don't you mean?" Edward responded, and they both laughed.

Jasper had overheard Edward apologizing to Bella and almost choked on his drink. He'd never, ever, heard the word 'sorry' passing Edward's lips in all the years he had known him. So, today was a red letter day he was going to record in his diary.

Jasper introduced Alice and the conversation quickly turned to her book. Jasper and Edward admitted they hadn't read it, but Bella told Alice she had made a point of reading it on the flight over, as she knew they were going to meet tonight. Alice was thrilled she had taken the time to do that, and they started discussing the various dreams that were mentioned in the book.

Jasper and Edward walked away from the girls, but Jasper's eyes remained firmly fixed on Alice, which didn't go unnoticed by Edward.

"You want to tap that, don't you, Jasper?"

"Don't be so crude, Edward, but I admit I am attracted to her. I haven't felt anything for anyone since I broke up with Kate five years ago, but Alice is something else."

"Well, good luck to you, Jasper; she's a foxy lady. There is definitely something other-worldly about her, which I'm sure we'll discover as the evening goes on."

The door opened and the sound crew came in and started connecting microphones and other pieces of equipment to their clothing. When they had all been 'wired for sound' they were escorted to another room next to the studio, from where they could hear the audience arriving and taking their seats. While they were waiting, Edward's eyes were firmly fixed on Bella.

She looked stunning from behind; her mahogany hair had been left loose and covered her back in soft curls, reaching almost to her waist. The tight black dress she was wearing fitted her curves beautifully and was elegantly sexy without being at all revealing.

She was wearing killer heels in bright red, which matched her lipstick. Consequently, Edward was slowly losing his equilibrium. He imagined holding her dainty ankles in his hands with the shoes still in place, but they were near his ears and he was bent over her while she cried out in ecstasy.

He was jolted out of his fantasy when the floor manager started shouting orders to the camera crew and lighting technicians, then she spoke to the audience about the etiquette of taking part in a television show.

Graham was hovering around waiting to be called out first, then he turned to Alice and said in a loud enough voice for everyone to hear,

"Alice, do you have a spell in your repertoire that ensures this is going to be a great show?"

Alice blushed, and nudged Graham playfully on the arm.

"Don't be silly, Graham, I've already got that sorted. Don't look through the trash in my room though; there are some toads without legs and newts without eyes in there."

Graham burst out laughing, then flounced onto the set when he was called, and was met with a roar of applause and cheering from the expectant audience.

Edward turned to Bella with a confused look on his face, but Bella and Alice were giggling like crazy.

"What the hell is he talking about; Alice, Bella?"

Alice responded, "Oh Edward, my dear, if you'd have read my book you would know that I have another profession apart from being an author."

"Really, Alice? So what is it?"

Bella took Alice by the hand, and said in a totally calm voice, "Alice is a witch, Edward. She's a highly regarded member of the Pagan religion, or Wicca, as it's sometimes known in England."

Edward's jaw dropped, but then he looked at both of them and laughed, as he presumed they were pulling his leg.

"You're joking, aren't you? I mean you're not serious? There's no such thing as witchcraft; that's all nonsense from the dark ages. Have you two been reading too many Harry Potter books lately?"

Bella gave Edward a filthy look and jumped to Alice's defense.

"Edward, there are more powers on this Earth than you know about, so be respectful to Alice. The Pagan religion is older than Christianity and has been part of England's heritage for thousands of years."

"Alright, I accept that, but witches and spells? Sorry, I don't believe in that nonsense."

Just at that moment, the floor manager touched Alice on the shoulder. "You're on in ten seconds, ten...nine..."

Bella gave Alice a hug, and she disappeared into the bright lights of the studio to enthusiastic applause. Edward was introduced next and was met with thunderous applause and lots of screaming from one section of the audience. Then Bella appeared last and was also met with an enthusiastic and noisy welcome.

Graham flung himself into his chair and looked at his guests in turn.

"Well, this is going to be fun," he chortled, and clapped his hands together.

* * *

**A/N: So, Alice is a witch? **

**Before you start thinking this is a Harry Potter crossover - it isn't. Alice doesn't have a wand or a broomstick, and she doesn't play Quiddich. Paganism is totally different. ****Like the Alice we all know and love from Twilight, she does have a few 'tricks' up her sleeve though; but you'll have to wait to see what mischief she can get up to.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far; it's been great to hear from all you lovely people who have read and reviewed my other stories and have come back to say hello. ****Reviews are great and really appreciated, so don't be shy, even if you just leave a :) or a :(**

**Joan xx (aka Michaelmas54)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE – Louboutins, Lies and Lifestyles **

Alice, Edward and Bella took their places on Graham's bright red sofa, and waved at the audience who were clapping, cheering and whistling. It was obvious where Edward's fans had congregated, as they were shrieking out his name, and waving pictures of him in the air. Alice looked somewhat surprised at the spectacle; she had no idea Edward had such a following of ardent fans, as popular culture did not play a part in her life.

Bella was sitting nearest to Graham's chair and next to Edward on the sofa. She could feel Edward's eyes boring into her, and sense the sparks of electricity that were bouncing between their bodies. Being so close to him was making it difficult for her to concentrate; it was like knowing there was a predator in the room and waiting for it to pounce. She eyed the large glass of chilled Pinot that was on the table in front of her, and was tempted to down-it in one shot; she was so on-edge.

Her first impression of Edward, after their first encounter on the flight two days ago, was that he was an 'arrogant jerk'. Five minutes previously, before they went on set, he had confirmed that analogy again. So why was she feeling this insane attraction towards him; like they were two magnets being compelled to snap together?

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since she arrived in London, and since finding out he was going to be on the show, had been anticipating this meeting with trepidation. There was something about him that intrigued her; she couldn't put her finger on what, and, more importantly, why?

Graham was oblivious to what had gone on in the waiting area, and presumed everyone was still friendly and in a good mood. After introducing his guests to the audience, followed by a few minutes of comical chit-chat about the reasons they were invited onto his show, Graham turned his full attention on Bella.

"Isabella Swan, the toast of Broadway; or should I say the bagel of Broadway!"(Audience laughter).

"Tell us about your meteoric rise to fame and your amazing success, and about the play that's brought you to England."

Bella smiled at Graham and drew a deep breath to steady her nerves, then commenced giving the audience a brief history of her professional life from when she was first 'discovered'.

"Sure Graham, but stop me if I'm boring you!" (Audience laughter)

"Nine years ago, I was just a normal sixteen-year-old high-school student in Boston. I had always loved the theater and acting, but never thought I would be good enough to make a career out it. My school was putting on _Romeo and Juliet_ as their end-of-semester play, and I had been chosen to play Juliet.

"A well-known theater critic happened to be in the audience, because his nephew was playing the part of _Tybalt._ Without my knowledge, he contacted a Casting Director, who he knew had been looking for a young actress to play 'Juliet' in his forthcoming production. He invited me to audition, and within two months I was playing Juliet in a theater in Boston during the evening, but still attending High School during the day."

Bella waited for Graham to make a comment, but he stayed silent, smiling and nodding his head encouragingly, and so she carried on.

"My parents wouldn't allow me to leave school until I graduated, so I couldn't go with the company when they took the production on tour. But the Producer of _Romeo and Juliet_ took me under his wing, and arranged for some classical drama training for me, while I finished my education.

"Once I turned eighteen, my career gathered pace. I was offered some amazing roles with some prestigious companies that brought Shakespeare and other classic plays to towns and cities across the United States. Consequently I've hardly been home in the last seven years.

"I had performed in New York before, in small off-Broadway productions, but this particular version of '_The Taming of the Shrew'_ was so popular when it toured, that the Company was invited to bring it to Broadway, where it was amazingly successful."

Graham had beamed at her all the time she was speaking. He was slightly mesmerized by this young girl, who had taken the American theater world by storm, and hadn't wanted to interrupt her flow by inserting any of his famous one-liners that were loaded with innuendo.

"That's a wonderful story Isabella. I hope that critic gave you a fabulous review and I suppose he's been living off the story that he discovered you since then? We're delighted to have you here by the way." (Audience whooped and cheered).

"Now, Isabella, you've reached the grand old age of twenty-five, and have already got one Tony Award in your downstairs bathroom; do you have any ambitions left?" he jokingly asked.

The audience laughed and Bella looked slightly embarrassed.

"My ultimate ambition has always been to work with The Royal Shakespeare Company at their theater in Stratford-on-Avon, which is what I will be doing when my six week season with the RSC in London is over, so I'll have to think up a new one now."

"What was your reaction when you found out the RSC wanted you to come over?"

"I couldn't believe it when the Producer and I received their invitation to bring this production to England; I thought I'd be at least forty before I was considered good enough. So being invited while I'm still in my mid-twenties, and on top of that, being an American with no formal training, it was a complete surprise and a huge honor. I can't thank the RSC enough for this opportunity."

"I'm sure you'll be wonderful Isabella. Now, when are we going to see you on the big screen?"

"My agent is encouraging me to do movies in the future, Graham. I've read lots of great scripts already, and have been offered some wonderful parts that have been very tempting. Nothing has appealed enough to drag me away from the theater though; but I'm definitely not saying never."

Edward was feeling more than slightly put-out that Graham was obviously treating Bella as the star of the show, as that was the position he was used to holding. He had kept quiet while Bella was speaking, but was affronted by her last comment, as he took this that she was implying film scripts were inferior to ones intended for the stage, and he challenged her.

"Are you saying screen writers are less talented than playwrights?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all, Edward. Writing a script for a movie is totally different than writing for a play. That's why it's so difficult to transfer a stage play to the screen, or vice-versa; it rarely works. If Shakespeare had been writing screenplays, his stories would have been written completely differently, don't you agree?"

Edward huffed, but let Bella carry on talking, without interrupting her again.

"So, you might do a film in the future, Isabella?" Graham asked.

"Yes, I would like to. I'd love to work with Woody Allen or Danny Boyle; Directors who make films about real life situations. I've read many incredible books over the years that would make wonderful, high-quality movies but I think I'll stick to performing Shakespeare on the stage. I would prefer to do dramas, obviously, as I don't think I would be any good in action or fantasy movies, do you? I'll leave those to experts, like Edward."

The audience laughed and clapped, as manipulated pictures of Bella dressed as Cat Woman, Wonder Woman, and with her face superimposed on top of Thor's body, appeared on a screen behind them. Bella turned to see what the audience were reacting to, and she gasped, and then roared with laughter at the comical images of herself.

Edward again considered Bella's last comment was slightly insulting. He took it as though she was implying that action movies weren't good enough for her, but good enough for him. He was trying to think of a suitable retort when he realized Graham had focused his attention on him.

Graham asked him about the movie he was promoting. The reviews had been fantastic so far, and the movie was set to make a fortune at the Box Office. Edward was happy to accept the gushing praise from Graham, and the cheers and whistles from the enthusiastic members of the audience, who clapped at every opportunity. "That's one in the eye for Bella," he thought.

Graham showed a particularly dramatic clip from the movie, where Edward was playing the US president's wayward son, who is kidnapped and held for ransom by terrorists in North Africa. He manages to escape, then, unexpectedly, (as his character is a useless, over-privileged, pot-smoking, waster), turns the tables on his captors who were holding other American hostages, including his drug-addict girlfriend. It was a gripping thriller, with lots of action sequences thrown in, and Edward felt very proud with the end result.

"Looks like this is one that is heading for some major awards, Edward?"

"I would like to think so. Fortunately for me, this sort of film appeals to the general public, but obviously not to everybody!"

Graham was now starting to pick up that there was tension in the air, so he asked Alice and Isabella whether they would be seeing the movie.

Alice shook her head, and said she hadn't set foot inside a cinema since she was a child, but she was sure the film was, "very good."

"What about you, Isabella?"

"I don't know, Graham; I don't go to the movies very often. When I do, it's usually to see an adaptation of a famous book, or a film documentary. I do like animated movies though, like _'Up'_! I would _love_ to be the voice behind a cartoon character; maybe someone out there will hire me?"

Bella had skilfully turned the conversation away from the fact that Edward's film was not to her taste, as she didn't wish to embarrass him. Edward though was valiantly trying to stop himself saying he would rather go to the dentist than sit through '_The Taming of the Shrew'_. Which he would have done if the person dismissing his film had been anybody else but Bella.

Graham quickly turned to Alice, as he could now sense the friction building between Edward and Bella. Even though they had been verbally polite to each other so far, their body language was speaking volumes.

He prompted Alice to describe her book for anyone out there who hadn't already read it.

"Is there anybody out there?" he called out to the audience, and was met with dead silence; then roars of laughter.

Alice beamed at Graham, and launched into a quick description of the tale.

"It's about a young woman called Eliza, who has vivid and sometimes very disturbing dreams about her past and present love affairs. This starts to affect her day-to-day life, as she isn't able to get enough sleep. Her dreams are so realistic; she is very reluctant to go to bed at night.

"Her situation gets worse, as she also starts to day-dream and fantasize about having sex with random people she meets during the day. Inevitably, because she is so tired and distracted, she starts having accidents, and ends up having several trips to hospital. This is amusing at first, but soon becomes a real problem.

"Eventually, her family and friends insist she goes to see an expert on dreams, to try to discover why she is having these dreams and fantasies, and to learn what they actually mean, and then ... well you'll have to read the story."

"Do you believe dreams have meanings?"

"Yes, of course. The subconscious mind is let loose when we sleep, as it doesn't have to deal with the pressures of modern life. Our deepest desires and fears emerge when we are at our most vulnerable, which is when we are asleep. We accept that a hypnotist can control a person's mind while they are in a state of semi-consciousness, and a skilled hypnotist can easily discover a person's darkest thoughts and desires while they are under. Regression Therapy can apparently take you back to your former lives! Dreams, if you can remember them in the morning, are the purest thoughts you're ever going to have."

Graham made a comment about his dreams not being very pure, which made the audience laugh. Then he asked her about her lifestyle.

"Everyone who has read your book will have read your profile on the back cover. Could you tell the audience more about your life as a witch?"

Alice chuckled to herself, and then turned to speak directly to the audience.

"Witchcraft is not what most people think it is. Witches are just normal people who have unusual skills. We wear ordinary clothes most of the time, and most of us have regular everyday jobs; even witches have to pay bills!"

The audience laughed as an image of an old woman in a pointy black hat, queuing up to pay a bill, flashed up on the screen behind them. It was obvious that Alice had been prompted to make that statement; but it went down well with the audience.

"We live in houses and flats, not caves in the woods, and we drive cars; we don't fly about on broomsticks, even though one would be really handy in London! (Audience laughter). You wouldn't know that you were sitting next to a witch if there was one in the doctor's surgery, or on the bus. We do our shopping in supermarkets, just like you, and send our children to normal schools, just like you."

Graham chipped in. "I've always suspected a few people at the BBC might be witches; the stage manager for one. She keeps giving me the evil eye!" The audience laughed as the stage manager wagged her finger at him off-camera, but took the joke as it was meant.

Alice continued. "The majority of witches are healers who work with the Earth; to remedy the ailments of the world for the benefit of humans, animals and plant life. We live according to the laws of the moon and sun, the stars in the sky, and the Earth and all her elements. It is our belief that as we all evolved from the Earth, so we look to it to heal us, as a child would look to his or her mother.

"The magic is all around us; witches have just learned how to use it for good. We have other skills, but these are personal to each witch or warlock; but there are strict rules in every coven, restricting what we are able to do."

Edward was trying to stop himself laughing; he thought the whole concept was ridiculous.

"Do people actually ask you to cast spells; like on their husband's mistress, that sort of thing?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

(Muted laughter from the audience)

"Yes, Edward, they do. But we don't use our powers to hurt people, no matter what they've done. As I said, we are healers; not torturers or murderers. We occasionally cast a spell to teach a person a valuable lesson. If they are either knowingly or unaware they are hurting others, or themselves for that matter, by how they conduct themselves in their day to day lives. We can use our skills to help them."

"So, you do actually cast spells, then."

"Yes."

Edward couldn't contain himself any longer and burst out laughing. He saw that Bella was glaring at him, and with the same amount of venom as had been directed at him on the plane.

Edward held his hands up in defense, and then turned away from Bella to face Alice.

"Look, I'm sorry Alice, but this is all a load of bull. I'm a realist. I don't believe in witchcraft, or Voodoo, or dreams having hidden meanings. Fantasies – well, they're just for people who don't have enough excitement in their lives, so they imagine ridiculous scenarios that are never going to happen. Fantasies are just a bit of fun, nothing more."

There was a sharp intake of breath from the audience. Isabella verbally pounced on him.

_"You."_ she said, poking him in the ribs, "are probably the subject of millions of fantasies dreamed up by _totally normal,_ sane, hard-working, busy women, and probably some men as well. People, who through no fault of their own, have to lead humdrum lives compared to yours, and need some sort of release to get them through the day. We can't all be handsome, mega-rich superstars; living the dream, travelling the world in abject luxury, doing a fantastically glamorous job. Ninety-nine per cent of humanity is barely getting by, day by day, doing crappy jobs to survive, like having to clean up after people like _you,_ just to keep body and soul together!"

Edward knew she was referring to the incident on the plane. He was just about to respond forcibly, when Graham jumped in to retrieve the situation.

"So, Edward, are you saying you never fantasize about women you meet, or situations you would like to find yourself in?"

The audience waited with bated breath for Edward to respond. A few juvenile giggles came from Edward's fans in the audience, who were obviously recalling their favorite fantasy about the very hot young man sitting directly in front of them.

Edward's mind flashed back to the fantasies he'd being having since yesterday; having sex with Bella on the plane, and the one he had less than half an hour previously. In that one, the location was the privacy of his dressing room; he was imagining having his hands around her ankles, with her feet still in those sexy red shoes, while he pounded into her.

Edward squirmed on the sofa, as he realized Bella's eyes were boring into him like laser beams. Alice was grinning from ear to ear, as she had picked up on his discomfort, and was waiting to hear his response.

Edward cleared his throat. "Yeah, Graham, I suppose I do have the occasional fantasy. I've always dreamed of driving a Formula One car in the Gran Prix at Monaco. I can imagine what it would be like to drive round those streets and win that race. So, yes. I suppose that would be my number one fantasy. What do you make of that, Alice?"

Alice looked at him with suspicion. That story was full of shit and she knew it, but she played along for the audience.

"Well, Edward, you are obviously striving for an unattainable goal, which must mean that you feel there is something you really desire in your life, but you expect you will never achieve it. It's certainly not your professional life, as you're on top of your game, so maybe it's something in your personal life that's lacking? For someone as successful as you, that must be difficult to accept I'm sure, but that's how I see it."

Edward was livid, but he couldn't show it with the cameras rolling. He was tired of this game now, and wanted out of the studio. Fortunately, it was time for the band to come on, so he knew he wouldn't be interrogated any more about his opinions.

The cameras and microphones were turned off as the stage was made ready, which gave him time to calm down. He downed the last few inches of his drink, and drummed his fingers along the back of the sofa. Bella and Alice, who were now sitting next to each other, were deep in whispered conversation; totally ignoring him while he stewed.

Bella turned towards Graham and asked him to dish the dirt about some of his previous guests while they were waiting; so Alice moved back to where she had been sitting, then whispered in Edward's ear.

"That fantasy story you related was bollocks, wasn't it, Edward?"

"Yes, of course it was," Edward whispered back. "I'm not going to broadcast personal information about myself to an audience of millions; anyway this stuff is all bullshit.

"Look, Alice, you're a nice person, but nobody gets in my head. No-one can control my mind. Dreams are just dreams, and fantasies are a bit of fun to while away the time when you're on a twelve-hour flight. Witchcraft is also bullshit, in my opinion. If you've got an impressionable mind, then of course you might believe that spells work; but it's just fantasy, ju ju, not real, sorry!"

Alice looked at him through narrowed eyes, and laid her hand on top of Edward's hand, that was resting on the back of the sofa. She stared directly into his eyes, holding his gaze.

"You have a lot of issues yourself that need resolving, Edward. Personally I think you're in desperate need of help. You're drinking to forget, you're using your arrogance as a shield; you think you're happy, but you're not. You really should come see me professionally."

Edward's jaw dropped open; he threw his head back and laughed.

"I don't think so Alice," he hissed; "you don't know me so don't pretend you do. It'll be a cold day in hell before I come and sit by your cauldron!"

Alice still had hold of Edward's hand, so she turned it over and examined his palm, running her fingertips over his open hand. She fixed her gaze on his eyes whilst rubbing her thumb inside his hand, and he stared back at her without speaking. She smiled warmly up at him, and uttered some words under her breath, then leaned over and whispered a few words in his ear. Edward smiled back at her and relaxed. She finally let go of his hand and replaced it on the sofa.

The stage manager signaled that the band was ready to go. Graham introduced them to the audience, and while they were applauding a welcome, Edward turned around in his seat to watch the band perform their latest hit. Out of the view of the cameras, Bella and Alice stood up and were dancing to the music, but Edward wasn't in the mood for joviality, and ignored their invitations to join in.

After more applause from the audience, it was time for 'stories from the red chair'. Isabella howled with laughter as Graham allowed her to pull the lever, which sent poor members of the audience flying backwards if their story wasn't up to standard, leaving only their feet on show to the millions who would be watching on Friday night. The show ended to rapturous applause and Graham escorted his guests from the stage.

As they were walking back to their dressing rooms, a seething Bella grabbed hold of Edward's jacket, and pulled him to one side.

"There was no need for that, Edward. You not only tried to embarrass Alice, but you also embarrassed yourself tonight. Can't you just accept that not everyone thinks like you do, and maybe they're right and you're wrong?"

"No, Bella, I can't. I'm not going to pretend to believe in something that I don't accept is real. I may be, as you so eloquently put it on the plane, 'an ignorant bastard', but at least I'm an honest, ignorant bastard!"

"But, what about Alice's feelings? Didn't you, for one second, consider she has just become famous, and maybe she wouldn't have the wit to defend herself when you dismissed her beliefs, in front of an audience of millions?"

"She did okay; she spoke up for herself, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did. But you didn't know she was capable of that. I only hope, for your sake, the editors of this show cut out some of your crass statements, or you're going to lose a lot of fans tomorrow night."

Edward stared down at Bella, who was prodding him in the chest as she said the last sentence. He was angry she had the nerve to speak to him like this. Yet, he couldn't help enjoying the moment. He was towering over this bristling, angry tigress, knowing he could, if he wanted to, pick her up and throw her over his shoulder; then spank the living daylights out of her in a place of his choosing, and she wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.

But of course he wouldn't do that; he would just store that delicious fantasy away for the next boring plane journey; which would be the one that would take him to Paris.

Edward slowly raised his hand to Bella's face and brushed some hairs away from her cheek. He put his finger under her chin and pushed her face upwards so they were eye to eye, then he placed his other hand firmly on her shoulder.

"Why do you care whether I lose some fans tomorrow, Bella? Is there something I should know? Maybe something you want to tell me?"

Edward bent over her so their noses were almost touching. He could feel her warm breath on his face, as they were breathing the same air. He stared into Bella's eyes, and he thought he had won the game when he noticed her lips turning up into a radiant smile. Then suddenly he was aware of the most excruciating pain coming from his left shin. He fell backwards, and spun away from her so she couldn't see his face contorting; his eyes watering from the pain.

"You fucking bitch," he growled under his breath, as he leaned against the wall, while agonizing pain spread over the whole of his lower leg.

"I may be a fucking bitch, but at least I'm a fucking bitch who knows how to put a pair of Louboutins to good use! Don't you dare touch me, ever again, Edward Cullen."

With that, Bella stalked off, muttering under her breath, and Edward was sure he heard the word that rhymed with _'banker' _coming from her cherry-red lips!

As Edward's eyes followed her as she walked away from him, he spotted Alice waving at her from the end of the corridor. When Bella reached her, he saw Alice hopping up and down, and Bella laughing at what she was saying. They both looked back and watched Edward, still leaning against the wall, rubbing his bruised shinbone. Then they disappeared around the corner, still laughing, towards their dressing rooms and to where their cars would be waiting.

As Bella went out of sight, Edward rested his head back against the wall, and said out loud to the empty corridor…

"God ... you've just got to let me have that woman!"

* * *

**A/N: **

**Should Louboutins be classed as deadly weapons from now on? Maybe that's why they're called 'killer heels'?**

**Edward has certainly met his match here, but he's a guy, and he's determined he's not going to lose this game. ****And what was Alice doing to Edward's hand? You'll just have to wait to find out!**

**Just to whet your appetite, there is a citrus warning at the top of the next chapter****! ****C****or Blimey! **(as they would say in England).

**Thanks to Caroline again for pre-reading this and spotting my many errors. If you like what you've read, please leave a :) or even a :))**

**Joan (aka Michaelmas54)xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**Huge Love to the FicSisters, The Lemonade Stand and ADF for recommending this story.**

* * *

**'Lemon Alert' for this chapter and others to come - only read on if you're not easily offended'**

**Great - you're still here - so here goes xxx**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: Bruises, Botox and Bites**

Edward was lying on his back, in his comfortable hotel bed, staring at the ornate ceiling again, but this time it was 2 a.m., and he couldn't for the life of him switch off.

He had tried everything, including counting sheep. He had even sung himself the lullaby from Mary Poppins, (which was still his favorite film, but he didn't dare tell anyone); nothing helped.

All he could see in his mind's eye were Bella's liquid eyes boring into his soul, her glossy red lips wrapped around his cock, and her tight ass, sheathed in that sexy black dress, as she walked away from him after the show. All he could feel though, was the throbbing pain in his bruised and battered shin, and the gaping hole in his chest, that was getting larger and emptier every restless minute he lay there. Even though the room was dark and cool, and he had pushed his duvet to the end of the bed, his tired body felt clammy and sweaty.

Eventually he gave up trying to sleep and swung his legs out of bed. Without turning the light on, he padded over to the cocktail cabinet in the lounge, that he knew contained a shelf full of miniature shots. Without looking what it was, he opened the first one he laid his hands on, and drank it down in one gulp. He shook his head violently when the neat gin lacerated the walls of his throat, but, undeterred, he grabbed the next bottle in line and opened that one, swallowing it in two gulps this time.

The heat of whiskey found its way into his bloodstream quickly; the alcohol spreading relaxing warmth into his tired and aching limbs. After splashing some warm water on his face and neck in the bathroom, to clean off the sweat, he wandered slowly back to bed and threw himself face down on the pillow.

He tossed and turned for another hour, but eventually a fitful sleep took hold of him. He woke almost five hours later, to the sound of Jasper banging on the door of his suite and calling his name. He reluctantly got up, then slowly walked to the door, and opened it without acknowledging Jasper's presence. He ambled back towards his bedroom, scratching his crotch with one hand and his head with the other.

"You look like shit," Jasper chuckled, as he picked up the hotel telephone and ordered breakfast for two, plus strong coffee.

"So would you if you'd hardly slept a wink last night." Edward retorted, then disappeared into the bathroom. Jasper heard the sound of the shower running, so he flicked on the TV to watch the morning news.

Edward emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later in just a towel, and disappeared into his bedroom again. He came out dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, not looking much better than when he'd answered the door. He threw himself on the sofa just as breakfast was being delivered.

"So why couldn't you sleep, Edward; guilty conscience kept you awake did it?"

"No, it's my fucking shin."

Edward pulled up the leg of his sweats and showed Jasper the bruise that had developed overnight, which was now a rainbow of black, blue and purple hues. He wasn't going to admit to Jasper that he hadn't slept because he couldn't stop thinking about Bella. Even though he presumed Jasper knew he was attracted to her, he wasn't going to admit at this stage how deep the attraction was.

"Serves you right; you shouldn't have been such an ass to Alice. I'm surprised she didn't give you one to match the other leg."

"Thanks for your support, Jasper; I should have known better than to expect sympathy from you."

"I told you in the car last night you'd been a jerk. It was excruciating to watch, Edward. I just hope the editors cut some of your crass comments from tonight's show, and it doesn't get out from the audience how rude and insensitive you were."

"So, being truthful is rude and insensitive is it?"

"Yes, sometimes it can be. You have to learn to bite your tongue in some circumstances and let things go. I know it's difficult for you when you're right all the time, but it's one method of being perceived as an adult, and not an adolescent know-it-all."

"I'm twenty seven years old, nearly twenty eight; stop being sarcastic."

"Well, start acting your age, Edward; then we won't have a problem."

Edward sulked while they were eating; only half-listening when Jasper went through the program for the day. Tonight, it was the London premiere in Leicester Square, but before that they were having a meeting with the producers of his next movie: an historical drama set in late 19th/early 20th century England. The production team's offices were in London, and Jasper thought it would be good PR to visit the producers while they were in town. Edward had only met the casting director in LA, when he had been signed up for the role without having to attend an audition.

After that meeting, they were having a pre-premiere lunch party in Tower 42, with the producers of his current film. Emmett and other senior members of the cast and crew would be there, plus a few other invited guests. The production company had taken over the whole restaurant, and Edward was looking forward to meeting up again with some of the people he had met on set, who weren't able to attend the LA premiere. He hadn't seen them since filming wrapped six months ago, and the London premiere would be their final goodbye. Then it would be back to the hotel for a rest, followed by the premiere and after-party in the evening.

Edward ran his hands through his hair and sighed. As Bella had reminded him, while she was poking him in the ribs last night, he had a life that the majority of people on the planet envied, but he was never at ease when he had to mix with people he didn't know. He wasn't too comfortable at premieres either, as his massive fan base made every event a media circus.

Hordes of screaming women would be in the Square no doubt; wanting to touch him and take photographs of him. He would have preferred to walk straight from the limo into the theater, and perhaps wave from a balcony, but he reluctantly acknowledged that his huge fan base drove up his movie-fee. He had to give something back, even though he felt uncomfortable doing it.

An hour later, they were exiting a London cab outside the Marble Arch offices of the production team. They were ushered into a small but plush office, where they were met by Mike Newton and his staff. They followed their hosts into an elegant meeting room that had an unbroken view of the vast expanse of Hyde Park. Over coffee and croissants, they discussed the forthcoming movie, and Jasper was handed a list of dates and venues where location filming would take place, plus details of Edward's co-stars and other supporting actors.

There were still some roles to be filled, but the main parts had been cast some time ago. The leading actress was Emily Young, who was American, but had recently married an English merchant banker and had moved to England. Edward was always interested in whom his leading lady was going to be, as nine times out of ten he would try it on. But Emily Young was newly married, so he knew he would have no chance this time. He looked at the list of other actresses, but most of them were British and he didn't recognize any of their names. He would have to wait until he got on set to see whether there were any worthy of his attention.

After the meeting ended, they jumped in another cab and arrived at Tower 42, just as Emmett was exiting his cab behind them. They traveled together in the fast elevator to the restaurant on the 24th floor, which had spectacular views over the part of London known as the 'square mile'. As they walked out of the elevator, they were greeted by the famous British chef, Gary Rhodes, who would be personally running the kitchen that day. Drinks were already laid out for the guests, and Emmett made a beeline for the bar; he had downed one glass of champagne before Jasper and Edward had crossed the room.

"Thank God for that," Emmett muttered, as he wiped his hand across his mouth. "My mouth felt like sandpaper."

Edward asked for a light beer rather than champagne. He was going to try and make this drink last the whole of lunchtime, as he wanted to keep a clear head for this evening. He could 'let his hair down' at the party afterwards, but there would be many TV companies filming the premiere, and he would no doubt be interviewed 'on the spot'; so he had to ensure he was able to answer another round of boring, generic questions, coherently and politely.

Emmett had stationed himself by the bar, and was working his way through a whole tray of glasses of champagne that he had commandeered just for himself. He beckoned over a well-dressed blonde woman who had just entered the restaurant, and put his arm around her shoulders, kissing her on her cheek, then generously handing her one of his drinks.

"Tanya, darling, I want you to meet some _very_ good friends of mine. This is Jasper Whitlock and Edward Cullen."

Tanya shook Jasper's hand quickly then turned to face Edward. She gripped hold of his hand and didn't let go. Her eyes perused his body slowly, then she smiled seductively at him as her face turned up to his.

"Edward Cullen; I have _so_ looked forward to meeting _you."_

Tanya fluttered her eyelashes suggestively as she clinked her champagne glass against his beer bottle, then took a sip of her drink, making sure she licked her lips slowly afterwards.

"I do hope to see a _lot_ more of you later, perhaps at the after-party; or even after that as well?" she whispered, but not quite quiet enough for Jasper and Emmett not to overhear.

Edward suddenly felt very awkward. This woman was hitting on him big time, and he was definitely not interested. When she was walking towards him, his first instinct was 'man-eater', which he knew was a bit harsh for a first impression, but experience over the years had taught him how to spot 'ladies' who had 'seen a bit of action' in the past. Five years ago he wouldn't have hesitated; but now he had to be careful. One-night-stands could become headline news the following morning, and this lady might as well have had 'gold-digger' tattooed on her forehead.

Edward muttered that he was sure he would see her at the premiere, and then made a hasty get-away when he saw one of his co-stars entering the room.

All through lunch, Tanya's eyes were on him, and each time he looked in her direction she winked at him. As she was sitting next to Emmett, and he was calling out to Edward to confirm anecdotes about mishaps that had happened on set, it was difficult to avoid eye contact with her. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable as the lunch party went on.

Jasper had spotted what was happening and whispered in his ear.

"Is Emmett's sister hitting on you?"

"Tanya is Emmett's sister?"

"Well yes, sort of; she's his step sister. His dad married her mother years ago. Mom had a bit of a reputation as well, by all accounts. Lots of stories circulating about her being a groupie in the 1970's, and she's not sure who Tanya's father is."

"Really? How old is Tanya then?"

"She must be at least forty, possibly more, but she's best friends with a plastic surgeon, if you know what I mean!"

"Jeepers, I didn't think she was that old. I'll have to get his number for when I need him in the future!"

"Just be careful Edward; she's obviously got you in her sights."

"Don't worry, Jasper; for once I'll be following your advice."

When the lunch ended, Edward and Jasper managed to slip away while Tanya was in the ladies room. They hailed a cab and went straight back to The Savoy, so that Jasper could prepare for the evening, and Edward could have a rest. Edward tried to take a nap, but couldn't switch off again, so he just lay on the bed with his eyes closed, thinking about Bella, until Jasper called his cell to say it was an hour to go before the limo would be arriving to collect them.

He jumped in the shower and inspected the bruise on his shin, which was now turning a sickly shade of yellow. It still hurt to touch, but the pain wasn't bothering him as much as earlier. He smiled ruefully when he realized that this bruise was his only tangible souvenir of their meeting, and as he carefully rubbed some shower gel on his leg, he wondered whether he would ever see Bella again.

He shampooed his hair twice, then wrapped himself in a towel and gave himself a close shave for a change. After that, he massaged his skin with moisturizing lotion, which he had recently become a big fan of, then went to dry his hair. He looked around for his hair brush, but it wasn't in the bag that he brought back from the BBC studio last night. He looked all around the suite, but it was nowhere to be seen. He thought about whether he had used it that morning, and he hadn't, as he had just run his fingers through his hair after his shower, not bothering to style it at all.

"Damn it," he said out loud to himself. "I must have left it at the BBC."

He called down to Reception and asked whether the in-house salon could bring up a selection of hairbrushes. Within a few minutes, a member of the salon staff was at his door with six different types to choose from. Edward grabbed two and told him to charge them to his account, then disappeared into the bathroom and thought no more of it.

He had just finished buttoning up his tuxedo jacket when Jasper knocked on the door. He grabbed his cell phone and followed Jasper out to the elevators, then down to reception where the limousine was waiting to take them directly to Leicester Square. Within minutes of leaving the hotel, they were caught up in the West End traffic chaos, partially caused by crowds trying to make their way towards the premiere.

Edward was relieved their car had tinted windows and central locking, so that no one could see he was in the car, or his life may have been in danger. The car was surrounded by women of various ages, many of whom were clutching photos and other memorabilia, and some of them looked _very_ excited. After another ten minutes or so, their car had reached the point where Edward and Jasper were able to get out in safety, and as the driver opened the door, they were met with deafening screams from the frantic mass of fans.

Edward was ushered towards various parts of the crowd, who were fortunately corralled behind heavy metal barriers. He allowed himself to be photographed with fans. and was interviewed by several TV channels who had waited patiently for their allotted turn. Nearly an hour later, he finally made it inside the theater, to find Tanya and Emmett standing by the entrance. Without waiting for an invitation, Tanya linked her arm through his and Emmett's, and they walked together into the auditorium.

To his horror, he discovered his allocated seat was situated between Tanya and Jasper, so there was no way he was going to avoid her this evening. As he sat down, he made sure his eyes were looking straight ahead at all times, as Tanya's dress left nothing to the imagination. Whichever way he looked in her direction, he would get a full view of her ample cleavage, as the plunging neckline of her dress went almost down to her waist.

As the lights dimmed he cringed, and within a few minutes of the movie starting, Tanya's hand was on his leg and travelling up towards his groin. He picked up Tanya's hand gently and whispered to her, "Please don't do that," and placed her hand back on her lap.

After a few more minutes her hand was back on his leg again, but starting at a higher point than before. He gripped her hand tightly and put it back firmly in her lap, then whispered, "Tanya, I'm not interested, just back off."

He sat absolutely still for a few more minutes, trying to concentrate on the movie, but keeping one eye on Tanya's hands. After a while he started to relax, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand slowly move towards his leg again. This time he stopped it before she touched him, and he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "If you touch me once more Tanya, I will ask for you to be removed from this theater. I'm not remotely attracted to you, and, quite frankly, I would rather shag your brother."

He heard Tanya huff, then she crossed her arms petulantly and didn't move a muscle for the rest of the movie.

When the lights went up, and after the stars of the film had received their applause, Edward and Jasper made their way out to the waiting cars and were whisked off to the after party venue. Emmett strolled up to them when they arrived, and Edward anxiously looked around for Tanya, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Tanya?" Jasper asked innocently, as Edward kicked him on the ankle.

"She's gone home with a headache; either that or her Botox was melting under all those arc lights!" Emmett joked.

Following that piece of good news, Edward relaxed, grabbed his first of many glasses of Champagne, and started to enjoy himself.

After about two hours, Edward said goodnight to Jasper and Emmett, as he was exhausted. Alcohol, jet lag and hardly any sleep the night before, were starting to take its toll and he was wilting. He shook hands with Emmett and said, "See you in Paris," and left the party. The limo dropped him off at The Savoy and he made his way up to his suite alone.

As he rolled into bed, he suddenly realized that he hadn't been tempted to proposition any of the girls at the party this evening. Usually he would spot a girl who took his fancy, and if he was fairly convinced she would be discreet, he would take her back to his hotel for the night. The notion to do that had never crossed his mind this evening, and he wondered why? Was Bella still playing on his mind, or was he sub-consciously holding out for something better now?

He laid his head on the soft pillows and closed his eyes, praying that tonight he would get a decent night's sleep. He was trying not to think of Bella, as she was partly the cause of his insomnia last night, but the only person who was inside his head was Tanya. He tried to rid his thoughts of her presence, but the image of her face became more and more vivid with every passing second, and he almost believed he could smell the heavy perfume she was wearing this evening.

He tried to will himself to open his eyes, but instead, he had the strangest feeling that he was in unfamiliar surroundings, and Tanya was standing directly in front of him.

"Oh God, I don't want this woman in my thoughts right now; what the hell is going on, and where the hell am I?"

**_"Come closer, Edward; I know you want me. I'll show you what a real woman can do for you."_**

**_"Oh yes, Tanya, I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you."_**

"What the fuck, oh my god I can feel her hands on me."

**_"Come over to the bed, darling, and let me help you take off that beautiful tuxedo. Lie down on the bed and I'll make you feel soooo good."_**

"No, no I don't want this, get off me."

**_"That's it Edward, let me undo that crisp white shirt, and then I can run my hands over your beautiful chest. Ooooh perfection, that's what you are. Let me kiss and lick your nipples and then you can kiss mine."_**

**_"Oh Tanya, that feels fantastic, you have the most heavenly mouth."_**

"Fuck, what am I saying, uuuurgh this is a nightmare. Get off me you perverted hag."

**_"Now, Edward, let's see what's hiding under these lovely soft trousers shall we. I'll undo your belt and put it somewhere safe; we can use that later maybe?"_**

**_"Naughty girl, but I like the way you're thinking."_**

**_"Now then, lift that sexy butt off the bed so I can take off these pants and boxers and...my oh my, you are a big boy."_**

"Holy Fuck, she's touching my dick!"

**_"Mmmmmm lovely, I'm going to have a lot of fun with this."_**

**_"Strip for me Tanya, I want to see and feel your beautiful body all over me."_**

"I'm going to be sick."

**_"Your wish is my command, Edward."_**

**_"God, your tits are magnificent; rub them all over my face, please."_**

**_"With pleasure, Master."_**

**_"I like you calling me that."_**

**_"Do you want to dominate me, Master?"_**

**_ "Yes, Tanya. I'm your Master! Now get the rest of your clothes off and wrap those sumptuous lips around my cock, or you'll feel the sting of my belt."_**

**_"Oh, Master, you are so controlling; I'll be your willing slave."_**

"No no, she's sucking my dick, this is a fucking nightmare."

**_"Oh, Tanya, that's right, keep doing that, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, aaaaaaaah!_**

"I don't believe it; I've just blown my load in my sleep, what the fuck is going on?"

**_"Come here slave, I'll make you feel good now. Let's see what my fingers can do for you while I recharge my batteries for round two."_**

"Wake up Edward, wake up, you don't want to do this, stop now. Holy Hell, it's like a bowling alley down there."

**_"Does that feel good baby? I can get two, three, err, four fingers inside. Are you feeling this?"_**

**_"Oh yes, Edward, your fingers are so long and they're driving me wild."_**

**_"Come for me baby, I want to see your face when you come."_**

**_"Oh Edward, Master, Edward, Maaaaaaaaaaasterrrrrrrr."_**

"I need disinfectant, now – this is gross."

**_"On your knees slave, I'm going to take you from behind. Wiggle that sexy ass for me."_**

**_"Slap me master; slap my arse while you're fucking me."_**

"Okay God, I'm going to make a deal with you. Wake me up now and I'll give all my money to charity. I'll join a convent, sorry, I mean a monastery. I'll do anything; but please, please wake me up before I stick my dick in this woman."

**_"Oh, God, you're so huge. Ow! Ow! Ow!_**

**_"Take it Tanya, is this hard enough for you?"_**

**_"Ow! Ow! Harder, Master, fuck me and slap me harder."_**

**_"I'm coming Tanya, come for me again baby ...urrrrrrrrrrr!"_**

"Alright, God, so this is my punishment for everything I've done wrong in my life? Consider us quits now okay; just get me out of here."

**_"Come here baby, lie on your front and let me massage those beautiful shoulders of yours."_**

**_"Ooh yes, that feels so good, Tanya, just there, a bit lower, mmmm."_**

**_"Let me kiss you all over your back and down to your butt."_**

**_"Mmmmmmmm, ow!"_**

**_"Just a little memento of our time together, Edward; I love leaving a love bite on a man's butt. Now you rest your weary head after all your exertions. I'm sure you're a tired boy."_**

**_"Mmmmmmmmmm"_**

* * *

Jasper had been banging on Edward's door and calling his cell for at least five minutes. In the end he called Reception and asked them to come to Edward's room and open the door for him. Within a minute the Reception manager was there with a master key-card, and after checking Jasper's identity, let him enter the room. He found Edward stark naked on top of his bed cover, fortunately face down, but absolutely out for the count.

He walked out of the bedroom and called room service, and asked for coffee and mineral water to be sent up to the room straight away, and breakfast to be delivered in half an hour. When the drinks arrived, he banged on the bedroom door and watched with amusement as Edward rejoined the land of the living.

He poured the coffee and listened to Edward muttering expletives as he staggered into the bathroom to relieve himself. After a few minutes, he came out wrapped in a robe and sat on the sofa, and drank half a bottle of mineral water before acknowledging Jasper.

"How the hell did you get in here, Jasper?"

"The manager let me in; I was banging on your door for ages."

"Oh right."

"Heavy night was it, Edward?"

"You could say that. I had the most awful nightmare. I dreamt I was fucking Tanya, but it was so disgustingly real."

Jasper laughed and handed him a mug of coffee.

"So, who was she then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who was the girl you brought back here. Not that lovely brunette who was making eyes at you all evening?"

"I came back on my own!"

"Bullshit!"

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Well, if you came back on your own Edward, who the hell gave you that hickey on your ass; the Tooth Fairy?"

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**A/N: (Ducking for cover)**

**So what is on Edward's backside? Was this all a dream, or did he really have the full-blown Tanya experience? We'll just have to wait and see. **(Please note for those who might be concerned, drugs and rape are never in my stories - neither of them are laughing matters).

**The fun continues, (for everyone but Edward), in chapter five, so ****I hope you can stay along for the ride.**

**Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. If you've enjoyed this chapter, let me know, even if it is just a :)) or a :((**

**Joan xx**

**PS: ****For all my overseas readers, British tooth fairies normally leave a pound under the pillow, not a love bite/hickey on the 'arse'!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

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**CHAPTER FIVE – Marks, Madness and MILFs**

"What the hell!"

Edward leapt off the sofa and disappeared into the bathroom. He pulled off his robe and looked at his butt in the mirror. He had to stretch to see it, but there, resplendent on his right cheek, was a red mark, slightly bigger than a beer bottle top. He stared at it, then rubbed it to see if it would disappear, but it was there for keeps. He put his robe back on, and sat on the side of the bath shaking his head.

"It must be a coincidence," he thought to himself. "There's no way I had sex with Tanya; I haven't moved out of this room all night, have I?"

He stood up and wandered back into the living room, just as the breakfast trolley was being delivered by room service. Even though he was hungry, he didn't feel like eating; the smell of what was under the plate covers was making him feel nauseous.

Jasper was grinning like a Cheshire cat; he hadn't seen Edward move so fast in years, and was desperate to find out how a hickey came to be on his butt.

"Well, what's the story then; who was she?"

"I told you; I came back here on my own and went straight to bed. That isn't a love bite, hickey, whatever; it's just a mark."

"Certainly looked like a bite to me; you moved pretty fast to take a look. Are you sure your 'nightmare' didn't really happen? Maybe Tanya was hiding in here when you got back, and ravaged you when you were asleep."

"Well, if that's the case, get room service to bring up a barrel of disinfectant, as I intend taking a bath in it!"

"Alright, Edward; I believe you. Just eat your breakfast; we have another busy day ahead."

"What is it today again?"

"It's PR work; improving your image, that sort of thing. This morning you're going to meet up with some disadvantaged youngsters who are being supported by the Prince's Trust. Then, this afternoon, you're going to visit a stage school, which is the London branch of the one you went to in LA."

"That sounds really boring Jasper; do I have to?"

"Yes, Edward; your image needs a bit of a shake up. You hardly do any charity gigs, other than the usual Hollywood conscience fixers, and your stage school got you to where you are now, so it's a bit of payback time."

"What about this evening?"

"Dinner with Mike Newton, Emily Young and husband, Angela Webber who wrote the book, and the script writers."

"Alright, that sounds good, I can cope with that."

As he was eating his breakfast, Edward reflected on the dream. Every detail of what he imagined he had done with Tanya came back to him. Normally, he couldn't remember his dreams, but he could re-live this one, minute by minute. He looked at his hands and immediately felt his face becoming hot, as a particularly disturbing image came back to him. He quickly stood up from the table, as he felt a compelling need to be in the bathroom.

"Can you leave now, Jasper; I'm going to have an hour long shower, just in case Tanya did sneak in last night."

"Okay, Edward; I'll knock for you at about ten o'clock."

As Jasper left, Edward involuntarily shuddered, as he recalled the feeling of Tanya touching his body. He looked down at his hands, and remembered where he had put his fingers in his dream. He could feel his stomach churning and his face getting hotter, and sensed that his breakfast might be planning on making an appearance again.

He went into his bedroom and examined the bed. There was definitely a damp patch where he had been lying, and that was the last straw. He flew into the bathroom and threw up everything he had just eaten for breakfast, and probably some of last night's dinner as well. Then he slumped onto the floor, with his back against the bath, and waited for the room to stop spinning.

Images of his encounter with Tanya flashed through his mind. He could smell her perfume in his nose, feel her hands on his body, and his hands moving over hers. As he sat on the cold, tiled floor, he wondered how he was ever going to rid his brain of the hideous memory. He remembered the Jim Carey movie '_Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'_, and wished he could find a similar way to permanently erase the last twelve hours from his life.

When he was sure he wasn't going to throw-up again, he turned the shower temperature up to as hot as he could tolerate, and stood under the steaming hot water, until he was positive he had purged his skin of any trace of Tanya's presence, imaginary or not. Then he scrubbed his hands and fingernails with a brush, almost manically, as an extra precaution.

He stripped the bed completely and threw everything into the corner of the room, then poured a shot of whiskey over the pile, hoping the housekeepers would presume he had spilled alcohol on the bed, and wouldn't bother investigating why he wanted new bed linen.

He picked up the shirt and trousers he had been wearing last night and held them up to his face, sniffing them for any evidence of Tanya's perfume. He couldn't detect anything suspicious, but he put a note on them to be cleaned by the hotel staff anyway.

He got dressed, while saying over to himself, "I'm not going mad, I'm not going mad," and was ready to go when Jasper knocked on his door.

Because he was mixing with youngsters today, he dressed-down in black jeans and white t-shirt, with a thin, grey, hooded top under a designer leather jacket. Jasper's version of 'casual' was a jacket that didn't match his trousers, but he was happy with Edward's attire. He was still a relatively young guy, and as long as he was clean, he could get away with anything, because he was so ridiculously handsome.

Jasper had arranged to have a car and driver today and it was waiting outside the hotel for them. At just after ten, they set off across London, to visit a group of young people who were starting their own businesses, and being supported by the Prince's Trust charity.

The press were attending the event, and were already waiting for them when their car drew up at the community workshop in Tower Hamlets, which was one of the poorest parts of the city. Edward spent the morning having his photo taken with the young entrepreneurs, while talking to them about their various business ventures.

He was genuinely quite taken aback by the ingenuity of some of these youngsters, most of whom had some sort of disadvantage or problem in their background, like poverty, drug abuse, minor crimes or just lack of parental guidance. He engaged in quite lengthy conversations with some of them, and before he knew it, the morning had flown by, and it was time for lunch. As he sat down to eat with the youngsters, he realized that he had been so interested in what they were doing, he hadn't thought of Tanya, or Bella, for almost three hours.

Lunch was provided by one of the entrepreneurs. Her business produced and sold packed lunch boxes, to sell at stations to commuters who hadn't had time to make their own. Edward sat with the young people, munching on a ham and pickle sandwich, an apple, a bag of chips and a soft drink, and insisted on paying for it (well Jasper paid because Edward didn't have any money on him).

While he was eating, he tried to recall ever speaking at length to youngsters like the ones around him. He had led such a sheltered and financially privileged life when he was growing up, he had never had the opportunity, or to be honest ever wanted the opportunity, to mix with anyone who wasn't filthy rich. At the age these kids were now, he was already an established movie star, and his fame had separated him even further from the real world.

After lunch, he reluctantly said goodbye, and was in the car again on his way to the stage school in Balham, which was an affluent area on the other side of London. This was a private visit and the press hadn't been invited, but they were waiting outside the building when he arrived anyway.

Edward shook hands with the principal, who met him at the door. He was led into the main hall, where about a hundred children of varying ages were sitting on the floor, yelling his name at the top of their voices. The noise was high-pitched and deafening, and he winced as he entered the packed room. He put his hands over his ears to indicate to the children they were too loud, then waved at them with both hands, signalling for them to calm down. Eventually, order was restored, after a few words and some hard stares from the principal.

All around the edges of the hall, he could see the children's mothers, who were standing apart from their offspring. As he took his seat on the platform, he scrutinized this group of obviously, very wealthy young women, and noticed they were all done up like they were going to Royal Ascot. Not a hair was out of place, and their clothing was immaculate, with a lot of cleavage and leg on show. When he entered the hall, he had been aware of the smell of a hundred different perfumes in the air, and it dawned on him, that probably every woman in the room was lusting after him, and he was genuinely just a little bit scared.

He pulled his eyes away from the women and smiled at the children, who were all staring up at him expectantly; except for one little boy, who was glaring at him furiously with his arms crossed. He spotted the child's mother waving at her son, trying to encourage him to smile, but he wasn't having it. The boy looked down at the floor, closed his eyes tightly and put his hands over his ears.

The mother, who was a petite, very pretty blonde woman, in her late twenties or early thirties, who Edward thought was the hottest looking woman in the room, picked her way through the seated children and took her son's hand. She smiled up at Edward as she led her son to the side, where he buried his face in her skirt, refusing to turn around and look at Edward. The hot mother comforted her son, but gave up trying to get him to join in, as he was obviously very upset.

Edward took part in a lively question and answer session with the children, who all wanted to know what is was like to be a famous movie star. He spent an hour talking to them about all the good things about Hollywood; telling the children if they worked hard, they could be successful like him. After signing autographs and having his photograph taken, he said goodbye to the children and left with Jasper, ignoring the paparazzi and uninvited journalists, who were camped out by the gate.

The car took them straight back to the hotel, so they could have some time to relax and clean up, before meeting Mike in the restaurant. Jasper told Edward he would call him about an hour before they were due to leave, to give him time to get ready.

Edward went into the bedroom, took off his shoes, jacket and hooded top, and laid down on the newly made-up bed and closed his eyes. He imagined what Bella would have been doing today; presuming she would be rehearsing for the opening of her play next week. He was tired, and his eyes quickly closed as he recalled the highlights of what had been an unexpectedly interesting day, especially the time he spent with the inspiring youngsters from The Prince's Trust, who had beaten the odds and were making something of their lives.

Then he thought about the privileged children and their Stepford Mothers at the stage school. Even though the venues were only a few miles apart as the crow flies, those kids came from completely different worlds, and that thought made him feel quite depressed. As he was drifting off to sleep, his mind turned to the miserable little boy and his hot mother, and he was curious why the child had been so upset; but he hadn't asked, so he would never know.

Suddenly, he sensed the air temperature changing around him, and he realized he wasn't on his bed anymore, he was standing on the doorstep of an immaculate, three story, town house, and the hot mother was welcoming him through the door.

**_"Come in Edward; it's so nice to see you again."_**

"Okay! Whoever is doing this, I don't mind this fantasy; thank you very much. Hot Mom has got a rocking body and she smells of Chanel; absolutely divine. I'm quite happy to take anything _she's_ giving."

**_"Follow me, Edward; George is in the back room playing with his toys. It's really kind of you to do this. George is missing his daddy while he's away with the Army."_**

"Do this? Do what? What am I supposed to do with/to obnoxious little George; but Daddy's away – result!"

**_"Here he is. George, I want you to come and say hello to Edward."_**

**_"Hello, Edward."_**

**_"Hello, George, how are you?" _**

_"_He's still sulking, the miserable little shit."

**_"I'm okay, thanks, now that you're here. You can go now, mummy; Edward and I are going to play some games."_**

"What?"

**_"Alright, handsome; now you be a good boy for Edward while mummy pops to the shops, and I'll bring you back a treat. I'll be as quick as I can."_**

**_"Thanks, mummy, bye bye."_**

"Damn, I thought I was going to play mommies and daddies with the hot MILF, but looks like I'm stuck with George. Oh well, I'm sure she won't be long. If I wear George out now, he might be bribed to take an afternoon nap!"

**_"So, George, what do you want to play?"_**

**_"Cowboys and Indians."_**

**_"Are you sure you don't want to play on your X-Box?"_**

**_"No, I want to play Cowboys and Indians."_**

**_"That sounds like fun; what do you want to do?"_**

**_"I want to be the Cowboy and I want you to be the Indian. I've just captured you and I want to tie you up."_**

"Hmm, this is a bit odd – I wonder if this runs in the family? Maybe Hot Mom likes tying people up too!"

**_ "Okay George, what are you going to tie me up with?"_**

**_"I've got some rope. Go and sit on the floor over there while I put my Cowboy hat on."_**

"I can handle this; he's only a kid. Might as well go along with the game."

**_"I'm going to tie your feet up first, so keep still while I do the knot."_**

**_"Alright, Cowboy, but aren't you going to let me get dressed up as an Indian?"_**

**_"No, I haven't got any Indian clothes, and anyway you're a grown-up; they wouldn't fit, stupid! I'm going to do your hands now; put them behind your back."_**

"Hmm, getting worried here; maybe this isn't such a good idea."

**_"Hey, that's too tight. Where did you learn to tie knots like that?"_**

**_"I'm a cub scout. I've done my knot badge, Big Chief Edward Cullen."_**

**_"What are you doing now?"_**

**_"I'm tying you to the radiator, so you can't run away."_**

**_"Why would I want to run away, George?"_**

**_"Because I hate you, and I'm going to hurt you!"_**

"Oh shit, I've got a child psychopath here."

**_"Why do you want to hurt me, George?"_**

**_"Because mummy loves you more than she loves me."_**

"Oh oh!"

**_"Why do you say that; I'm sure that's not true?"_**

**_"Because she's got lots and lots of pictures of you on her computer; there's pictures of you on her phone and in her handbag; she watches your films all day when she should be playing with me; she's got a cushion with your face on it on her pillows, and I hear her calling your name after she's gone to bed at night."_**

"Oh Shit!"

**_"I'm going to get Daddy's gun now, Edward, so you'd better start saying your prayers."_**

* * *

"Edward, Edward, what's wrong with you?"

"Jasper, fuck, what's happening? Get me away from here; where's George?"

Edward gripped hold of Jasper's shirt as he was leaning over him, and looked around the room wildly, then collapsed back on the bed again when he realized he was in his own bedroom and not tied to a radiator.

"Who's George?"

"Oh Jesus, fuck, umm, just a kid I met today at the stage school. Oh shit; I was having another bad dream, like last night, wasn't I?"

Edward sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed and took a few deep breaths. His hands were shaking slightly and he felt slightly disorientated.

"Why did you ask what's wrong with me, Jasper?"

"You were thrashing about on the bed; your arms were behind your back and your feet were crossed over at the ankles; it looked like you were having a seizure."

"Oh, right. I'm okay, I think. Thanks for waking me up."

Edward wiped his forehead with his t-shirt; then wondered how Jasper had got into his room without knocking.

"How the hell did you get in here by the way?"

"I asked for a spare key at the front desk after I couldn't get in the other day. You don't mind do you?"

Edward shook his head then put his hands over his face. Sweat was pouring off him and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Jasper went into the lounge and came back with a bottle of chilled water for him, then went in the bathroom to get him a towel.

Edward looked down at his wrists, and there were faint red marks where the rope would have been in his dream. He pulled up his trouser legs and there were marks on both his ankles. He threw his head back on the bed again, and crushed his knuckles in his eyes.

"What the hell is happening to me, Jasper? I think I'm going mad."

"I've always known you're mad, Edward, but why do _you_ think you're mad?"

Edward ignored the crack; he wasn't in the mood for joviality.

"The dreams are so real. It's like I'm having an out-of-body experience, but I can't see myself. I can hear myself talking, and actually feel what's happening to me, but I have no control over what I'm saying."

"Edward, you're just going through a phase of having vivid dreams; we all have them occasionally. I get them if I eat chocolate before I go to sleep!"

Jasper sat down on the edge of the bed and took a long hard look at Edward. Jasper knew he was vehemently anti-drugs, as they had both seen the devastating effect they had on people in their profession; but Jasper still looked for the tell-tale signs in Edward's eyes; there was nothing of concern to be seen.

"Think about this, Edward. You've been working non-stop for the past week; you're still jet-lagged probably, and you've been eating and drinking more than usual since we've been touring. The combination of lack of sleep and body abuse is possibly having an effect on your mind."

Jasper actually thought Edward was being over-dramatic about his '_nightmares'_ and wasn't really that sympathetic. Anyway, he didn't have time for psychoanalysis; they had to be out of the hotel and on their way to the restaurant in half an hour.

Edward removed his hands from his face and sat on the edge of the bed again, reflecting on what Jasper had just said.

When Jasper woke him, he was literally shaking with fear, as he was expecting George to shoot him. His last memory of the dream was George turning around to look at him, with a look of pure evil on his face, as he left the room to get the gun.

He accepted it was another bad dream, as he was sure an eight year old child wasn't capable of that level of venomous hatred. But, like the dream he had last night, it had felt so real, so authentic, like he was there in the house, smelling the mother's perfume, being tied up by George, feeling the rope around his wrists and, for a brief moment, feeling fear; all the sensations of being there in the scene, and not as an outside observer.

Was he over-tired and had he just been over-doing it, he thought? It was possible, because the last ten days had been full-on; packed with event after event and a lot of travelling. He couldn't ever remember drinking so much over such a sustained period. Every night had been party-night, so it was quite possible that his liver was protesting, by sending out enzymes that were playing tricks with his brain.

"Yeah, you're probably right, Jasper, I have been over-doing it," Edward responded with a loud sigh. "Can we cancel this evening? I wouldn't mind chilling here for the rest of the day."

After he'd got over the shock of Edward actually admitting he may be right, (another first), Jasper shook his head.

"I'd rather we go to the dinner this evening with Mike and his party, and cancel tomorrow morning's events, which are radio and magazine interviews. They can be postponed, or you could do them over the telephone. I'm quite happy to say you're unwell, so you can have a quiet morning; but the dinner tonight is important, as you'll be meeting the writer, Angela Webber, who insisted that you were cast for this part, and this part has 'Oscar' written all over it."

"Okay, Jasper, we'll go, but we won't stay late, and I'm staying off the booze!"

"Another first," Jasper muttered under his breath, then he left Edward to get ready for the evening, which he hoped would be uneventful and without any dramas.

But this was Edward Cullen's life, and an uneventful evening, without drama, was unlikely to happen.

* * *

Across town, in an equally plush hotel, Bella was getting ready for a night out. Her first performance was only four days away, but it was Saturday night, and she wanted to have at least one night out in London, before her social life was curtailed by her commitment to the stage.

Earlier in the day, she had completed her first full dress rehearsal with the R.S.C., and was now feeling both elated and exhausted. She had been anxious whether she would bond with the British actors, who were already an established and supremely talented team. But they had welcomed her with open arms and had been kind and generous towards her. Several of the cast had been to New York, as an advance-party, to watch this version of The Taming of the Shrew, so there were several familiar faces when she had turned up for her first rehearsal, which helped her relax and feel a lot happier.

Before they got in their cars, after The Graham Norton Show, Alice had insisted they meet up on Saturday evening, so they could hit a few bars, have a great meal, and then, if they were feeling up to it, hit a few more bars and maybe a club. Bella gratefully agreed, and was secretly delighted to have made a friend in London.

Even though Alice was at least five years older than her, and was totally disinterested in modern culture, they had hit it off immediately. She knew she was going to have a good time in her company this evening, even though she had to be up early for another rehearsal tomorrow morning, so had to be careful what she drank. She looked at the clock and it was 6 p.m. Time to meet Alice downstairs.

As she closed the door to her small suite, and walked down the quiet corridor towards the elevator, she wondered what Edward was doing this evening. She shook her head from side to side, as though she was trying to dislodge the memory of his face, and the ridiculous attraction she had for him. But his stunning green eyes, and soft pouting lips, were invading her thoughts constantly, and her stomach clenched in a knot every time she recalled his hand touching her shoulder, and his face being so close to hers, she could smell whiskey on his lips.

As the elevator 'pinged' it's arrival, Bella said aloud to the metal doors, "Get a grip of yourself, girl. Forget him, he's definitely not for you!"

She stepped into the empty metal box, determined, that by the end of the evening, and after a few drinks, some good music, food and company, she would have forgotten about the arrogant, egotistical, unbelievably-fuck-hot jerk, Edward Cullen!

She had arranged to meet Alice in the foyer, but she wasn't there yet, so she walked out onto the street to make the most of the early evening sunshine.

Directly in front of her was a London double-decker bus, stuck in heavy traffic. Plastered on the side of the red panels was a picture of Edward, advertising his new movie, looking stylishly disheveled and very sexy. The bus moved away, to reveal a newly-updated and huge movie poster on the side of a nearby building, with another glorious image of Edward; this time with his leading lady wrapped around him.

Bella's mouth dropped open. Realization hit her that for the next few weeks, she would not be able to escape being reminded of that face, every time she ventured out onto the streets of London. Forgetting about him was going to be impossible.

And that's how Alice found her; rooted to the spot, staring at the picture of Edward, with her mouth wide open.

Without saying anything, Alice flagged down a passing taxi. As she pushed a comatose Bella inside, she shouted to the driver,

"Get this girl to a bar fast; she's in desperate need of an alcoholic defibrilator!"

* * *

**A/N: Bella's got it bad. So when do you think her world is going to collide with Edward's again?**

**Poor Edward. He thinks he's going mad! Every time he shuts his eyes now, he's living someone else's fantasy of him. I wonder why that is!**

**So, how many of us know someone like George's mother (coughing)! Pictures on the laptop (tick), on the phone (tick), cushion on the bed (tick)- that's as far as I'm going!**

**Next chapter - we meet the lovely Angela Webber, who's a bit of a character.**

**Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed - feedback is really appreciated. **

**Joan xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**********Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX – Reunions, Restrooms and Royalty**

Only slightly behind schedule because of heavy Saturday night traffic, Edward and Jasper's cab arrived at a plush restaurant in the middle of London's theater-land. The exclusive upstairs floor was very popular with celebrities, as the owners kept a strict and rigorously observed privacy code; anyone who bothered a celebrity, or took photographs inside the restaurant, would be asked to leave immediately.

Mike and his partner, Jessica, were already there when Edward and Jasper arrived, and were seated at a beautifully dressed round table set for nine places. They were able to have a brief chat with Mike before the other guests arrived, but Jessica sat quietly, gazing at Edward with her mouth slightly open, not saying a word.

Edward was determined to stick to his plan to not drink any alcohol during the evening. He asked for a mineral water with ice and lemon; his intention being to go to bed that night with a clear head. He also intended eating only the blandest dishes on the menu, to further reduce the chance of having another nightmare.

He spotted Emily Young and her husband entering the restaurant, and stood up to greet them. They were escorted by the maitre d' to the table and Mike did the introductions.

After a few more minutes, Angela Webber arrived, apologizing profusely that the two screenwriters who had helped adapt her book into the script, were unable to attend. They were stuck on the other side of the English Channel in Brussels, waiting for a flight out, and had already been delayed for six hours. Mainland Europe was in the grip of an air traffic controllers' dispute, and the only way to get across the channel at the moment was either by boat, or train via the tunnel. Jasper had heard about the strike, and was starting to get concerned they might not be able to get to Paris as planned, and was hoping the dispute would be resolved before Monday.

Angela chose the chair next to Edward and greeted him warmly.

"It's a privilege to meet you, Edward. Sorry, you don't mind me calling you Edward, do you?"

"Not at all, Angela," Edward replied, smiling back at her.

As usual, he had appraised Angela as soon as he saw her, and immediately dismissed her as a possible sexual partner. She was quite short, slightly overweight, nearer fifty than forty he guessed, but still very attractive, with a lovely, cheery smile. He instantly felt relaxed talking to her.

"I suppose Mike told you I insisted you were offered the part of Gregory," Angela said, blushing slightly.

"Well, it was actually Jasper who told me, but I was very flattered to be number one on your wish list. Why did you feel I would be right for the part?"

"Oh, Edward, apart from being a great actor, you have an old-fashioned air about you, and you are quite a dashing young man." Angela giggled nervously. "It wasn't difficult imagining you in Edwardian clothes either; even your name is right for the era!"

Edward thanked Angela for the compliment and asked, "Are all your books historical novels?"

"Yes, I cannot imagine writing a contemporary story. Did you know I'm a Professor of History at Cambridge? My writing started off as a hobby, and after my first story was published, it ended up making me more in the first year than I could earn in a lifetime as an academic!"

"No, I didn't know that, Angela; that's very interesting. Is the early twentieth century - "

Edward stopped mid-sentence, as he heard Jasper let out a faint gasp. He looked up to see what had provoked that reaction, and standing at the end of the table was Bella. She wasn't looking at either him or Jasper, her eyes were transfixed on Angela, who was by now chattering away to Emily's husband.

Edward stood up from his chair, and the sound broke Bella's gaze. She gave Edward a sheepish smile.

"Hello, Edward. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Bella, apart from a slight limp. How are you?"

Bella didn't have time to react to Edward's sarcastic response, as just then Alice appeared behind her and squealed when she saw Jasper. Jasper didn't squeal back, but he was very pleased to see her.

"Are you and Alice here on your own?" Edward asked.

"Yes, we were lucky enough to get a cancellation at the last minute."

"Why don't you join us" Jasper suggested. "Angela's colleagues were unable to come and we have two spare places."

Bella glanced at Edward, to see if she could tell from his expression whether he was happy or not with the arrangement. She saw him indicate that he was okay with it, by giving her a slight nod of his head and a smile.

"Thank you, Jasper; that would be very nice."

Bella walked over to the empty seat next to Angela and offered her hand to shake.

"You may not know me, Miss Webber; my name is Isabella Swan. I'm a huge fan of your writing. I've read everything you've ever published and my local bookstore is under strict instructions to get me first editions of all your future books. I would dearly love to act out your words, if you were ever to put one of your stories on the stage."

Angela beamed up at her, and grasped Bella's proffered hand with both of hers.

"Isabella Swan, I've heard so much about you. I'm staying in London for your opening night on Wednesday, and I'm so looking forward to it. It's an absolute honor to meet you. Please sit next to me; we have so much to talk about."

Edward looked around at the table and wondered why he was there.

Alice was practically sitting on Jasper's lap, and he was grinning from ear to ear looking like the cat who'd got the cream.

Emily and her husband were behaving like newly-weds should, as Sam was hardly able to stop touching her all the time. He kept stroking her hand, then raising it up to his lips to kiss.

Mike was being especially attentive to Jessica. Edward presumed she was star-struck, as when they were introduced, she couldn't string more than two words together. The last thing he wanted to do was to annoy Mike if Jessica was lusting after him, so he didn't initiate any conversation with her.

Most annoyingly of all though, Bella and Angela were totally engrossed in their conversation about novels he had never heard of, so he was sitting there, knocking back his mineral water, with no-one to talk to.

After a while he signaled the waiter and asked for a whiskey and soda. Jasper gave him a hard stare and Edward mouthed, "Just the one, because I've got nothing else to do with my mouth, asshole!"

He was just raising the whiskey to his lips, when he heard Bella exclaim,

"Edward's playing Gregory?"

"Yes, he was my first choice," Angela confirmed to Bella. "That's why we're here."

"You could've fooled me," Edward muttered under his breath, sulkily.

Bella peered around Alice, so she could see Edward fully.

"Edward, I'm impressed. I thought you were an action-movie type of guy; not one for serious dramas."

"Well that just shows how little you know me, doesn't it, Bella?"

"And I'm playing Georgina, hopefully," Emily added, and then put her hand on her mouth and dropped her eyes down to the table, as if she was trying to avoid eye-contact with anyone.

Mike's attention turned away from Jessica. "What do you mean 'hopefully' Emily? Is there something I should know?"

Emily had turned a brilliant red color on her cheeks, so Sam jumped in to save her.

"Emily has just found out she's pregnant, Mike; she'll be just over four months along when you start shooting. If the pregnancy goes as it should, she won't be showing too much by then so it shouldn't be a problem."

Mike looked relieved. "Honeymoon baby was it?"

"Yes," Sam chuckled. "A bit of a surprise, but Emily seems fine, so we're not expecting any complications."

Emily looked up. An embarrassed smile appeared on her face as congratulations were offered. Mike ordered champagne, and after they toasted Sam, Emily, and the baby's good health, the food arrived, and the banter was light-hearted and friendly while they were eating.

When dinner was over, they all swapped seats. After talking to Jessica briefly, Bella found herself sitting next to Edward. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"Do you want to call another truce, Edward?"

"I don't know whether I can risk it, Bella. Last time we called a truce, you almost broke my shin bone. I wasn't aware that Louboutins were putting steel toe caps in their stilettos now, or were they specially made, just for you?"

"Well, you deserved it; you were an asshole, and you touched me without permission, so don't deny it."

Bella said that with a smile on her face, and Edward couldn't help but smile back.

"I know; I probably did deserve it, but it still fucking hurt."

Edward guessed that this was probably his last opportunity he had to speak to Bella before they went their separate ways; so before he could think twice, he said quietly, so no-one but Bella could hear,

"I don't know what it is about you, Bella; you bring out the best and the worst in me. I haven't met anyone like you before, and I must admit, you fascinate me. I can't stop thinking about you, and would like to get to know you better. Would you like to spend some time with me before I go back to the States?"

Bella blushed slightly, and fiddled with the napkin on the table as she thought of her response to Edward's declaration. She knew what she wanted to say to him, and had gone over it in her mind several times during dinner, but she still hesitated before she bit the bullet and came out with it.

"Edward," she whispered, "We have a connection; I don't know what it is, or where it's come from, or why for that matter; but you and I know there's something going on here. You're _so_ not the type of guy I go for; in fact you're the complete antithesis of my 'ideal man'. I should in all honesty despise you, as you're arrogant and very rude sometimes. Also, we have nothing in common; you're not into classical theater or literature as far as I'm aware. So, why can't I get you out of my mind? Why am I thinking of you when I'm rehearsing? Why did my heart-rate increase when I saw you this evening, and why am I even telling you this?"

Edward was taken aback by her confession, and was, for a few seconds, speechless. He looked around at the other guests at the table; they were all in deep conversation with one another, so no-one had heard what Bella said to him.

He shook his head in bewilderment as he wondered what to do or say next. If it had been anyone but Bella, he would have taken her hand and held it, or run his fingers through her hair. But he didn't dare touch her without permission, after what happened last time.

"So what do we do about our 'connection' Bella? Do you want to take this further and go out on a date with me?"

"No, not now, Edward; I have to concentrate on my seasons at The National and Stratford, so, frankly, my life is too busy for a relationship at the moment. I just needed to be honest with you, and now we can say goodbye on friendly terms."

"You can't just drop a bomb like that; say you have feelings for me then walk away. Surely we can meet up before your opening night and see where this goes?"

"No, we can't; it wouldn't be fair on me or you. I'm really sorry, Edward. Anyway, would you excuse me, I need to find the Restrooms."

Edward got up as she left, and his eyes followed her until she disappeared from view. He sat down at the table and perused the last drops of whiskey in the bottom of the glass and thought about what she had said.

'Arrogant and rude'. Was that her impression of him? Did she actually despise him because of his behavior? He wished he had an opportunity to show her there was another side to him, but then he asked himself, "Have I got actually got another side to me?"

He looked over in the direction of the restrooms, waiting for her to appear again, then thought to himself, "fuck this," and left the table to follow in her footsteps.

The Restrooms were out of sight of their table, and he loitered outside the ladies room until Bella opened the door. She jumped in surprise when she saw him.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Don't worry, Bella, I'm not going to touch you, but I can't leave it like that; life's too short not to take this further if there is something between us. Why can't we meet up, just once, on our own?"

Edward was leaning over her as Bella looked up at his anxious face. She could see a slight hint of desperation in his eyes, so she laid her hands on his chest, as if she was trying to gently push him away, and shook her head.

"Edward, I don't want to start something that's bound to finish almost immediately; I don't have the time or the inclination to have a relationship at the moment, and I don't do one night stands."

Edward's hands lightly gripped her shoulders and he manoeuverd her body backwards into the Restroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Before Bella had a chance to resist, his lips were on hers for just a moment, in a brief, but still passionate, kiss. He pulled away from her and looked directly into her eyes.

"You touched me first, Bella," he said with a smirk, then his mouth was on hers again. This time Bella responded. His tongue easily slipped inside her mouth, as his arms enveloped her body, lifting her onto her tiptoes.

Bella dropped her purse on the floor, and wound her arms around his neck. As he crushed her against him, she was instantly aware of his arousal pressing against her stomach. She weaved her fingers through his silky hair and whimpered, as his soft and sensual lips were making her whole body tingle.

Their lips eventually broke contact, and they stood in the middle of the ladies room, grasping each other's arms at the elbows, gasping for breath as they both came back down to earth, until they heard the sound of a toilet flushing and the lock of a cubicle door being pulled back.

"Oh crap!" Edward cried, as he grabbed Bella by the hand, as she was frantically trying to pick her purse up off the floor. He managed to pull her out the door before they were spotted and they fell out into the corridor, laughing, then hurriedly attempted to straighten hair and clothing before they went back into the restaurant.

"You go back to the table first, Bella. I'll go in the men's Restroom and come back in a few minutes."

Bella nodded, and strolled nonchalantly through the busy restaurant as though nothing had happened, even though her mind was in turmoil.

"No, no, no. You can't do this, Bella," she was saying to herself. "I know he's unbelievably attractive, and his kissing technique is sinful, but this is totally wrong. I mustn't get involved with anyone at the moment. I need to speak to Alice, when I can prize her away from Jasper that is."

Alice and Jasper were obviously in the middle of exchanging phone numbers as she approached the table. Alice looked up.

"Where have you been; you've been gone ages?"

"I bumped into Edward when I was coming out of the Restroom and he was going into the men's. We were talking. He'll be back in a minute."

Both Jasper and Alice noticed Bella's flushed complexion, and were instantly suspicious. Edward appeared then, and he purposely spoke to Mike and Sam for a few minutes, rather than go over to where Bella was standing.

Jessica was staring up at him again with her mouth slightly open and a glazed expression on her face, which he found a bit off-putting. She hadn't said a word to him all evening apart from "Hello" when he arrived, but he could definitely pick up that she was lusting after him. Edward made sure his eyes were fixed on Mike while they were talking, and then he backed off without speaking to her. He walked over to Bella's side of the table, just as she was picking up her jacket.

"Are you leaving?" he asked, sounding surprised, as it was only just after ten o'clock.

"Yes, I've got an early start at the theater tomorrow. The director wants to fit in another rehearsal on the actual stage, and as there is another production going on in the afternoon and evening, we can only rehearse in the morning. So I'm sorry; I really have to go."

"Can I at least have your number so I can call you?" he whispered, so no-one could overhear.

"No, Edward. I told you I haven't got time for a relationship, and as tempting as you are, I can't take this any further."

Edward stood in front of her and brushed a stray hair away from her face.

"Please don't tell me you didn't feel something back there; we were on fire. In fact, I'm still on fire!"

Bella looked down at his groin area and nodded in agreement.

"I'm not denying that I felt something back there, Edward, and it was a bit more tangible than fire!"

Edward smirked, but Bella put her hand in his as though to shake it.

"It's been great meeting up with you again, Edward. Good luck with the movie and the rest of the tour. Maybe we'll cross paths again in the future when we're back in the States."

Edward was at a loss what to say, as he could tell that Bella was determined not to change her mind, and he wasn't going to start pleading in front of everyone at the table. He took Bella's proffered hand and brought it up to his lips and kissed it gently, then reluctantly let it go. Bella blushed furiously and said, "Goodnight, Edward."

Alice jumped up and grabbed her coat and bag, then bent over to kiss Jasper on the cheek. She grinned at Edward, then said goodnight to the other guests.

Bella turned to Angela, who was by now quite tipsy, as she had been slowly working her way through the cocktail menu. She bid her goodnight, saying that she hoped they could work together in the future. Then she walked out of the restaurant, and effectively, out of Edward's life.

Sam and Emily rose from their seats and said goodnight, which prompted Mike and Jessica to start getting ready to leave after settling the tab.

Angela grabbed Edward and Jasper's arms and used them to haul herself out of her chair.

"Here are my two 'knights in shining armor'. Are you going to escort this old bird to her carriage and get her home safely?" she joked. Edward linked her arm in his, and gallantly helped her weave her way through the crowded restaurant. She only collided with other diners a few times, but they were fortunately good humored enough not to say anything when their chairs were jolted.

Once outside, Edward hailed a cab, and gave the driver Angela's address in Primrose Hill, a handful of notes, and sent her on her way. Ignoring a couple of persistent Paparazzi who were hanging around outside the restaurant taking photographs, they eventually hailed their own cab to take them back to The Savoy.

"So, who are you going to dream about tonight, Edward?" Jasper asked jokingly when they were on their way.

"Bella, I hope," Edward responded immediately without thinking; then realized he had just dropped himself in it with Jasper.

"I knew it! You had a tryst with her, didn't you? She was red as a beetroot when she came back from the restroom, you dog."

"Yes, Jasper, we had...words. I really like her, but she doesn't want to know; she says she's too busy for a relationship."

"Ha! Your charms didn't work on her then; you must be losing your touch."

"Leave it alone, Jasper," Edward grunted. "I'm not in the mood."

Jasper grinned to himself as he flicked his phone open when a text message came through. His eyebrows shot up and he giggled like a schoolboy, then tapped a response in and put his phone back in his pocket with a satisfied grin on his face. He sat back in his seat and looked out of the taxi window, as London at night flashed by.

The taxi drew up in front of the hotel and Edward got out, but Jasper stayed behind.

"Aren't you coming?"

"No, I've got something I need to do; I'll see you in the morning. Have a good rest tonight."

"You're going to see Alice, aren't you?"

Jasper winked at Edward as he tapped on the cabs interior window and gave the driver an address in Kensington.

"Sweet dreams, Edward," he chortled, as the cab disappeared into the night.

"Fucking marvelous," Edward grumbled. "Everyone is getting some action except for me, and I'm too scared to go to bed now."

He was tempted to go to the hotel bar to drown his sorrows, but instead took the elevator up to his suite, pondering the fact that it was eleven o'clock on a Saturday night in London, and he was on his own, when everyone else in the city seemed to be partying.

He tried to watch a movie on one of the cable channels, but couldn't concentrate on the plot. All he could think about was the feel of Bella's lips on his, and her taste when his tongue was in her mouth. When he wound his fingers into her loose curls, he couldn't recall ever feeling hair as soft, and it smelled of summertime and strawberries. As he lay with his feet up on the comfortable sofa in his suite, he felt thoroughly frustrated that he didn't know where Bella was staying, as he was tempted to go there now and beg her to reconsider spending some time with him.

It was one in the morning before he started getting ready for bed. He had been trying to put off the moment, as he didn't want another dream like the ones he had last night and during the afternoon. But his eyes were feeling heavy and he knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer, and if he didn't get into his bed, he would fall asleep on the sofa and would probably wake next morning with a bad back and a stiff neck.

When he'd got back from the restaurant, he had checked the suite to see whether there was anyone hiding in cupboards, or behind the sofa, or in the bathroom, or under the bed; just in case Tanya had sneaked her way in there while he was out. Then he made certain the door to the outside corridor was locked securely, and just to be sure, he moved a large chair over, and wedged that up against the handle. He checked all the windows were closed and there were no washing cradles dangling conveniently outside, with Tanya hanging off one. As he climbed into bed, he was content that he was safe from uninvited guests coming in while he slept, and as his head hit the pillow, all he hoped for was a long and uneventful sleep.

He lay on his back, then on his side, then on his front, saying over and over to himself, "I'm going to dream about Bella, I'm going to dream about Bella." He forced himself to think of scenarios, like strolling hand in hand down an idyllic riverbank, with Bella skipping along beside him with flowers in her hair; or being alone with her on a secluded island, on a white sandy beach, surrounded by turquoise sea, then all of a sudden he felt a strange movement between his legs.

"What the hell! I'm on a horse. I can't even ride, what the fuck...!"

**_"_****_My Lord, we are almost at the castle. Do you wish to wait 'til nightfall before we attack?"_**

"What the hell is this guy on about? What castle? Attack what? And what the hell am I wearing?"

**_"_****_My Lord, we need to make camp until darkness falls. The Black Prince's castle is surrounded by his men and our only cover is the forest."_**

**_"_****_I agree, Sir Charles; we'll rest here and attack at night. My Lady will have to wait a few more hours to be rescued; I just pray to God she has not been violated by this monster."_**

"Oh my Holy God, I'm in Medieval England; wearing fucking ironmongery."

And who the hell needs rescuing? I dread to think."

* * *

**A/N: **

**Before you read on, who do you think has put Edward in this situation? W****ith bodice un-ripped (as yet), lets be off to 'Merrie' England!**

**Joan xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**************A bit of Bella and Alice in the cab home from the restaurant first, then back to Merrie England with Edward.**

**************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN: Confessions, Castles and Confrontations  
**

Alice stared open mouthed at Bella as she related what happened in the ladies room, and then the frank discussion with Edward at the table. They were in a cab, stuck in the late-evening West End traffic, on their way back from the restaurant. The cab was dropping Bella off at her hotel first, then would take Alice on to her apartment in Kensington. They had planned to go to a club after dinner, but Bella was tired, and Alice seemed very keen to get home.

"You mean you told him you had feelings for him, even though you think he's an arsehole?"

"Well yes, I suppose I did," Bella giggled. She loved how Alice said 'arse' instead of ass.

"Why? I mean, why bother saying anything if you had no intention of seeing him again?"

"I honestly don't know what came over me. I'm sometimes too honest for my own good."

"So you really do feel there is something there?"

Bella hesitated before replying. She had told Alice about the showdown on the plane, but hadn't given her all the details, as they had really only just met. That wasn't the sort of thing you discussed with new acquaintances. Now, she thought 'what the hell', as she trusted Alice to give her good advice, and all her other confidants were five thousand miles away on the other side of the Atlantic.

"You remember I told you that Edward physically prevented me from calling the steward on the plane?"

"Yes...go on."

"Well, when he grabbed my hand, it was...like lightning shooting up my arm, and then...oh rats; I can't describe this very well. It was just the most amazing feeling; like the best orgasm you've ever had, multiplied by a thousand; but just for a split second."

They felt the cab swerve a bit in the road, and noticed that the driver's shoulders were shaking. Bella went bright red.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I know he felt it too, but it was a crazy situation. We were arguing, and then I threw a drink over him and called him an ignorant bastard, when all I wanted to do was jump him."

"So what did it feel like when he kissed you tonight."

Bella thought about her answer for a few seconds, and Alice could see tears misting over her eyes.

"It was heavenly, Alice. The moment our lips touched, I just felt he'd become part of me. I felt so comfortable in his arms. When he pulled me tight against him, it was like we were two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle joining together. I didn't want the kiss to end."

"So why the hell are you in this cab, going in the opposite direction to his hotel, for heaven's sake? This might be your 'once in a lifetime' moment? Don't walk away from this; you might regret it for the rest of your days."

"I know, I know; but I'm so committed for the next three months; I can't get involved with anyone. I've got six weeks at The National, then six weeks in Stratford. This is huge for me; it's what I've been working towards all my life. England is the home of Shakespeare, and if I want to be considered as one of the great Shakespearean actors in the future, and be invited to play all the famous roles on stages around the world, I've got to give these next few months my full attention, with no distractions. I can't afford to fail."

"Are you absolutely sure you're doing the right thing?"

"Yes, otherwise I'd be banging on the door of his suite at The Savoy, right now."

"Alright, Bella, I understand where you're coming from, but don't discount him for the future. He's not going to disappear off the face of the earth, and chances are, he might still be keen when you go back to the States."

"Maybe, maybe not; it's a chance I've got to take. Anyway, Miss Brandon, you're giving me all this advice, but you're sitting here in this cab, which is taking you in the opposite direction from Jasper. Why aren't _you_ practicing what you preach, and banging on his door at The Savoy right now?"

"Why do you think I took his number, Miss Swan? I promised to text him as soon as I dropped you off, and then he's coming over. I assure you, we won't be playing Monopoly tonight!"

The cab drew up at the hotel, and Bella reached in her bag to pay the smirking driver, but Alice told her to put her money away as she was on business expenses.

"Not too late to change your mind, Bella; you could still go back there tonight."

"No, I'm not changing my mind, Alice," she said in a voice loud enough for the driver to hear.

"Anyway it's the wrong time of the month, and there's nothing worse than being desperate for a good fuck when Aunt Flo is visiting. Have a good night, Alice, and say 'Hi' to Jasper for me."

With that, she blew both Alice and the driver a kiss, and disappeared into the hotel.

* * *

Okay. Obviously I'm 'The Boss' here; not in a Bruce Springsteen-y way though; as everyone is calling me _'My Lord',_ which is actually quite cool. If there's a fair maiden that needs rescuing in this castle they're all talking about, this might be quite enjoyable. Let's hope this time she's very 'fair', and when I rescue her she is very, very grateful."

**_"_****_My Lord, one of our spies has come back with a message. Can he approach you?"_**

**_"_****_Of course; send him to me while I dismount."_**

"Yep, I thought so; it's a white horse.

So I'm a Knight,

rescuing a fair maiden,

from a castle,

on a white horse.

Paleeeeease! Can't we be a bit more inventive than that? Ouch, this armor is bloody uncomfortable, especially around my balls. Jesus, how did they walk around like this?"

**_"_****_My Lord, the castle is protected on all sides by the Black Prince's guard, but we captured two and replaced them with your men. They will allow us to pass under cover of night, if you so wish."_**

**_"_****_Yes young squire -"_**

"Squire, what's a fucking squire. This lad only looks about twelve."

**_" -_****_ we will wait until dark and you will lead us to the break in their defenses. You have done well."_**

**_"_****_Thank you, my Lord; I would gladly lay down my life for you and your Lady."_**

**_"_****_Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Send my knights to me and prepare for battle. We have a long night ahead of us."_**

"Now, let's think; whose fantasy is this? Let me guess.

Jessica? Possibly; she almost had her tongue hanging out when she was looking at me.

Bella? No, she would dream up something a whole lot better than a Knight on a White Charger; her dreams would probably have a Shakespearean theme. I'd be Romeo rescuing her from her balcony. They did have at least one shag in that play, didn't they?

Emily? Probably not; she only had eyes for her husband tonight.

Alice? Not likely; she's obviously fixated on Jasper, but anyway I'm sure her fantasies would have me dressed up like Gandalf, or some other wizard.

What about Angela? Nah! Too intelligent; I can't see her fantasizing like this. She would imagine being rescued by Mr. Darcy. Mind you, she did call Jasper and me her "Knights in Shining Armor" tonight. Shit! Oh well, I'm sure I'm going to find out soon enough. Right, this tent is getting a bit crowded now; are all these guys my Knights? So where's the round table then?"

**_"_****_Faithful Knights, we know we have a dangerous mission this night, and some of us may die, but we have no option but to avenge the outrageous kidnap of my Lady that took place on the eve of our marriage. _****_My father will not cede our lands in return for her safety, so we must fight for our honor, and the Black Prince must not live through this night. I have promised this to my father, your King."_**

_"_Good, that speech went down pretty well. Lots of cheering and banging of swords on shields, so it looks like they're ready for a bit of action. Henry the Fifth would be quite envious of my repartee!"

**_"_****_Let's drink together, and pray to God that He is watching over us. Fare well my faithful Knights."_**

"Right, what's happening here? Looks like we've jumped forward a bit in time. We're creeping through the forest and there's a huge castle in front of us. Luckily, some of my more eager Knights are ahead of me, so they can do any attacking if needs be, and I'll just rush through and grab the girl and get all the credit. Shit! What was that; a fucking arrow just bounced off my iron waistcoat. We've obviously just been rumbled."

**_"_****_Keep down My Lord; we are almost at the entrance to the turret -"_**

"Yep, she had to be in a turret; not a room or a great hall, but a turret. Let's just check to see if her hair isn't dangling down to the ground before we go inside, which will save us a lot of agro!"

**_" - _****_quick, our man is inside the door. _****_Run and we will cover you with our shields."_**

**_"_****_Do these stairs lead to where my Lady is being held prisoner?"_**

**_"_****_Yes, My Lord; there are guards outside the door and they know we are coming."_**

**_"_****_They will be meeting our Lord in Heaven very soon, if they put up a fight and stop me claiming what's mine. Who is coming with me to defend my Lady's honor and return her to our people?"_**

"God, this is so corny. I can't wait to know who dreamed up this shit."

**_"_****_I'm with you."_**

**_"_****_As am I"_**

**_"_****_We will fight to the death."_**

"Okay, you guys can go in front then and I'll come up behind. Oh bugger; looks like I really want to be the hero; slow down Edward, you don't want to be out of breath when you get there."

**_"_****_My Lord, let me go first. I am your finest swordsman, and my blade will strike fear in their hearts when they see me wield it."_**

**_"_****_If you will, Sir Geoffrey, but we will fight or fall together and you shall forever be my brother, in this life and the next."_**

"Just get on with it. 'My Lady' has obviously been a prisoner for several days; I'm sure she won't appreciate you guys wasting time with all this heroic chit chat. Where's Bruce Willis when you need him."

**_"_****_Forward, for our Lady's honor - attack!"_**

"Jesus, this is pretty intense. Looks like Geoffrey's had it; that blade has made quite a dent in his neck. Oh shit, that big guy has his sights on me, and he's coming towards me with a fucking big sword in the air. Ha! Well done Charles; looks like big guy's going to have to book himself in for a knee replacement, and - no, not worth it, big guy's dead. Thank you Charles, I owe you. Now where are the rest of the guards; I wouldn't mind spearing one of them at least."

**_"_****_My Lord, the guards are either dead or have run off like cowards. Here are the keys to the room in the top of the turret. We will guard the entrance below, and help you and your Lady make your escape."_**

**_"_****_Thank you Sir Charles. Ensure Sir Geoffrey's body is returned to his family and not left for these dogs to dishonor."_**

"Okay, now for the good bit. Just a few more steps and all will be revealed. Hello, the door is already open; what's going on here? Jesus, that guy is manhandling 'My Lady', but it looks like she's putting up a fight at least."

**_"_****_Unhand her you blackheart, I will fight you man to man. _****_Draw your sword and we will finish this now."_**

"Obviously this is the Black Prince, because this dude is all dressed in black. He's got really blonde hair though. Oh oh, he's turning to face me. Fuck me, it's Draco Malfoy!"

**_"_****_Ah, Edward; you've ruined my little game I see, but I'll be the victor in the end. Your father stole our lands and possessions, and I promised my father on his death bed that I would avenge him, and take everything you own. _****_Now one of us will meet our maker tonight, so be prepared to die - ha ha ha!"_**

"Oh give this guy a break; he had shit lines in Harry Potter. At least give him some decent stuff to work with now."

**_"_****_My father is an honorable King, who cares for his lands and people, unlike your father, King Lucius, who was a tyrant. Draw your sword Draco, or I will spear you like a boar in the forest."_**

**_"_****_You haven't a chance against me, Edward. The witches prophesized that I would never die by a man's hand; so say your prayers while you have a chance."_**

"Oh shit, it's time to wake up now, Edward. I'll forego the grateful shag that I was planning on getting; just get me out of here fast."

**"****_My Lady – Don't do it!"_**

**_"_****_Take that, you white-faced wimp! Your witches might have foreseen you not being killed by a man; pity they didn't warn you about avenging Princesses. _****_Now, you can die in this freezing tower on your own, while I go off to marry a __real_ _man, and not one that can't get it up when necessary."_**

**__****_"_****_Aaargh, I'm done for. You use my own knife against me. I curse you both for eternity."_**

**_"_****_My Lady, my Princess, my Jessica! I thought - I thought he had had his evil way with you."_**

"Fuck! It is Jessica's fantasy; I should have guessed. I bet her literary choices are limited to Mills and Boon and Harry Potter. Mind you, she's pretty handy with that knife. Go Jessica! Shit, this isn't good. I'll never be able to look Mike in the eye again if I have to shag her."

**_"_****_I'm still pure my love, my Edward. _****_He wanted what is yours, but I fought him off. _****_Your wife will be a virgin on our wedding night."_**

"Yep, definitely Mills and Boon."

**_"_****_Jessica, let us find a priest while we are travelling back to our lands. _****_I cannot wait any longer for you; your beauty overwhelms me."_**

**_"_****_Oh yes, My Lord, but we must leave this place quickly; we are still in danger from the Black Prince's men. Take me home, Edward."_**

"Looks like we've shot forward in time again. Jessica and I are kneeling in front of a priest with Charles standing behind me beaming from ear to ear. Oh oh, I'm married, so wedding night sex is the next thing on the agenda. Well, it could be worse; at least she's a virgin, so I won't have to soak my dick in disinfectant afterwards. Hmm, looks like a party has been arranged in the forest, but Jessica is dragging me back to a tent set apart from all the others. I wonder why? As if I couldn't guess!"

**_"_****_Husband, this is where we'll spend our Wedding Night. It is so romantic, don't you think?"_**

**_"_****_Wedding Night? _****_I'm more inclined to have a Wedding Afternoon! Come here you saucy wench."_**

"'Saucy wench!' Where the hell did that come from?"

**_"_****_Edward, take me now; I want to be yours, completely."_**

**_"_****_Come here wife; let me bury my face in your luscious breasts, while I remove your under-garments."_**

**_"_****_Oh, Edward, you make me feel so wanton."_**

"Jesus! How many layers of clothing has she got on? No wonder Malfoy didn't get his dick in her. I'll be here for hours trying to work my way through this lot. Ah! Got it; just one tug here, and it all falls away. She actually has got nice tits, which is a bonus. So, here it comes, Jessica; just lie back and think of England."

**_"_****_Edward, you are so HUGE! _****_My mother warned me that it would hurt - ahahahoooooooh!"_**

"That's great work, Jessica; you're massaging my ego as well as my dick, but let's make this a quick one, shall we?"

**_"_****_Does this feel good Jessica, feeling my manhood thrusting inside you? I'm going to plant my seed in you now, so your belly can grow with our child. We must go to Church tomorrow and pray for a son."_**

"Not exactly what I would say to a woman while in the throes of passion, but each to their own. I suppose this Edward has his own idea of 'sexy talk'. Mine is usually 'come for me, baby', not 'let's have a baby.' That's dick-shrivelling words for a guy!"

**"****You are so beautiful, Jessica; I promise to make love to you every day of our lives. Let's rest now and then we can join the party and dance until dawn rises."**

"Okay, that wasn't so bad. I could do with a bit of shut-eye now, but why can I hear Bruce Springsteen singing 'Born in the USA'? That sounds like the ring tone on my cell!

Shit, that is my cell. Fuck, fuck, fuck, not again!"

* * *

Edward swung his arm onto the nightstand, grabbed his cell and shoved it under the pillow. After a few more seconds of '_Born in the USA_', voicemail kicked in, and the room was silent again. Edward sighed and closed his eyes to try and get some more sleep.

He tried to switch off, but the sensations he had experienced in the dream were still so clear in his head. The smell of the leather saddle; the texture of the rough hair of the horse beneath him; the taste of food and drink that were strange to his palate; the weight of the sword in his hand, and the sound of men dying; then the sex with Jessica. It was just too vivid for a normal dream.

He opened one eye and looked around him. His room was as he left it, and he could just see from his bed that the chair he wedged up against the outside door was still in position. He had been on his own in the room all night; so once again his mind had been playing tricks on him.

He needed to use the bathroom, so he swung his legs out of the bed and went to stand up, but the muscles on the inside of his legs were really sore and so were his ass cheeks; he couldn't understand why. He staggered into the bathroom to relieve himself, and when he was finished, he threw himself back down on the bed again and closed his eyes.

About an hour later, 'The Boss' was warbling his patriotic song again, and this time Edward answered it with a grunt; it was Jasper.

"So, who did you dream about last night then?"

"None of your fucking business."

"Have you had a good rest though?"

"No."

"What do you want to do this morning? The radio station was fine about the cancellation. I said you would call them later and do it over the phone, so you have a few free hours."

"Can you book me a massage? My legs are killing me for some reason."

"Okay. Do you want the masseur to come to you, or do you want to go down to the Spa?"

"Here, please."

"Alright, Edward, I'll sort it. I'll see you later."

About an hour later, there was a soft knock on the door, and Edward had to get out of bed to move the chair out of the way. He presumed it was housekeeping, so he opened the door, expecting to see one of the maids, but instead there was a young man standing there with towels, lotions and a big smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen. My name is Roger, and I'm the masseur from the Spa."

"Oh yeah, right, come in. Just give me a few minutes will you."

Edward disappeared into the bathroom and had a quick shower. He came out wrapped in a towel, just as Roger was finishing setting up a massage table that had appeared from nowhere. Roger had also drawn the blinds and lit a few aromatic candles, placing them strategically around the room. Edward was a bit suspicious of Roger's motives, but he honestly wasn't in the mood to either question them or care, so he laid himself face down on the table and relaxed, while Roger rubbed some lotion into his hands.

"Well, let's see, where does it hurt Mr. Cullen? What areas would you like me to concentrate on?"

"My legs are aching for some reason, you could start with those."

Roger started massaging Edward's cramped muscles, and every now and again, Edward winced when Roger hit a sensitive spot.

"Oh, you are very tense in certain areas, aren't you Mr. Cullen. Let me guess, hmmmmm.

Have you been riding a horse lately by any chance?"

* * *

**A/N **

**Yes I know; you guessed he was saddle-sore! A bit obvious, wasn't it? I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Edward's exploits gave you a laugh or two.**

**Hands up who would like to be in Roger's position now - giving Edward an all-over massage? Is it one of your Dreams and Fantasies? (Reaching for the smelling salts and a cold flannel).**

**Thanks again for all the reviews - it is great getting feedback, and also hearing from readers who reviewed my previous two stories; it's lovely to hear from you again xx **

**Joan xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

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**_CHAPTER EIGHT - newspapers, nannies and naughty boys!_**

* * *

After an intensive, deep massage from Roger's deft fingers, Edward showed him out, and he was alone again with his thoughts.

While he had been lying on the massage table, he had re-lived every moment of his night-time experience, which he accepted was just a vivid dream, but he still couldn't get his head round how he came to be saddle-sore. He couldn't believe Alice had the power to transport him back to Medieval England - time travel was a myth; but how come his legs were still aching like hell?

He decided he now wanted a long, relaxing, soak in the tub to aid the healing process, and to wash away the pungent and slightly sticky lotions Roger had worked into every muscle and crevice in and on his body. He wandered into the bathroom, turned the water on, and, for good measure, poured in every complimentary bottle of bath oil that had been provided by the hotel; swirling them into the steaming water with his hands. The relaxing scents from the luxurious products filled the bathroom and the effect made him feel slightly light-headed.

Edward was just about to strip off his boxers, when he heard a loud knock on the outside door. He looked through the spy hole and saw Jasper pacing up and down in the corridor. With an irritated grunt, he opened the door and let him in.

Jasper had a bundle of Sunday newspapers and magazines under his arm, and Edward could see his photograph on some of them. Obviously, yesterday's PR initiative had been considered newsworthy enough to be featured, and Edward could tell, by looking at the satisfied expression on Jasper's face, that Jasper was relieved he had received a decent amount of publicity for his efforts. Edward wondered whether it would be comparable to the wall-to-wall coverage Bella had received when she arrived in London, but he doubted it.

Jasper dropped the bundle on the sofa and called room service, asking for coffee to be sent up immediately and breakfast to be delivered half an hour later, then he made himself comfortable and opened the first of the newspapers.

Edward wasn't going to postpone his soak, just because Jasper had turned up. He disappeared into the bathroom, as Jasper started reading aloud some of the comments about yesterday's visits. They were all very complimentary, and Jasper considered yesterday's PR events had gone down well.

Also, fortunately, there had been no negative fall-out after the airing of the Graham Norton show, as Edward's more controversial comments had been edited out, thanks to Jasper's diplomatic skills. He had made several phone calls to the show's producers on Friday morning, saying that Edward had admitted he was out of order, and was going to apologize to Alice at the earliest opportunity. Jasper had not as yet discussed the promised apology with Edward; he was waiting for the right opportunity to broach that subject.

"Who did you dream about last night then?" Jasper shouted through the bathroom door.

"I told you, none of your business, but it wasn't Bella."

"So, you did have another one of your vivid dreams, despite only having one drink and plain steak and salad?"

"Yes I did, and I'm getting sick of it. Now will you stop disturbing me, at least for the next twenty minutes."

Jasper grumbled, but his coffee had just arrived. He poured himself his morning fix, which always lifted his mood, and read some more of the articles, chuckling over some of the lewd comments from the 'ladies' who had been interviewed following Edward's visit to the stage school.

Jasper was seriously considering hiring a bodyguard for Edward, after reading some of the more lurid and inappropriate remarks about Edward's 'hotness'. Some of these women probably had very pissed-off husbands at the breakfast table this morning, if they were reading a comment attributed to the mother of their children, but Jasper was still very satisfied with the general tone of the coverage, as the publicity would do Edward no harm.

After Edward's twenty minutes in the tub was up, Jasper shouted through the bathroom door again.

"What do you think is causing you to have these dreams then? Do you think it's being in England, or jet lag, or something else?"

"It's your fucking girlfriend, Jasper; I think she's cast a spell on me!"

Jasper laughed out loud. "I thought you didn't believe in magic and witches, Edward. I think you're words were, 'its bullshit, fantasy and ju ju', I seem to remember."

"I still believe that, but the dreams started almost immediately after meeting Alice on The Graham Norton Show; it's too much of a coincidence."

Jasper was trying to stop laughing, and was pleased there was a closed door between himself and Edward.

"Do you want me to ask her whether she's cast a spell on you?"

"No, Jasper. Absolutely not! I don't want her thinking I believe in magic and witchcraft. She won't let me hear the end of it."

"Okay, I won't mention it; but let me know if you change your mind."

"That's not going to happen, so don't hold your breath. Anyway, lover-boy, how did your evening with Alice go?"

"Honestly, Edward, it was magic; pure fucking magic!"

* * *

Jasper had postponed Edward's morning and early afternoon appointments that had been arranged for that day, so he could rest. His only other commitment wasn't until the evening, when he was booked to take part in a fashion photo-call for Vogue.

This was to be an outdoor shoot, using the night-time views of London as a backdrop. He would be spending much of the night with some very famous models, wearing ridiculously expensive clothing, and having his photograph taken in front of some of the city's most familiar landmarks, which were being specially lit for the occasion.

Edward still had several hours to kill before he had to be there, so after his bath and breakfast, he relaxed in his room, watching movies and reading the papers. He gave two interviews over the telephone to radio stations and spoke to a reporter from a movie magazine on Skype using Jasper's laptop, so Jasper was happy that he had fulfilled some of his commitments.

At about four in the afternoon, he decided to go for a brisk walk outside to get his muscles working again; preferring not to use the hotel gym where he would probably be recognized and bothered. After choosing a suitable disguise from his luggage, which consisted of an old pair of jeans, a well-worn and faded black hooded top, a plain white t-shirt, unbranded trainers, a black beanie hat to cover his hair, and a pair of cheap, aviator-style, sunglasses to complete the look, he grabbed his phone, wallet and I-pod, and left the room.

When he stepped out of the elevator, he could see a small group of paparazzi outside, waiting either for him, or other guests of note, to appear. After a few minutes of pretending to read tourist information at the front desk, he managed to slip out of the hotel without being spotted, by mingling with a group of men and women who had been congregating in the foyer. He shuffled past the photographers, who were chatting among themselves, then slipped away from the group, as they were boarding a waiting coach taking them to a function.

Edward jogged down a narrow side-road that he knew led to The Strand. When he reached the famous street, that was home to theaters, bars and restaurants, he turned left and walked briskly along the bustling pavements until he reached Trafalgar Square. The whole area around the fountains was crowded with tourists from all over the world, and he knew there would be no opportunity of finding anywhere quiet to sit and think, so he carried on walking through Admiralty Arch, and onto the 'Queen's driveway', better known as The Mall. He half walked, half jogged, along the long, wide avenue that led directly to Buckingham Palace. He could see the imposing building in the distance, stretching out like an impenetrable wall of silver magnificence behind the golden Victoria Memorial, but he didn't intend going that far.

About halfway down the tree-lined avenue, he made his way through a gap in the ornate railings that ran the whole length of The Mall, behind the leafy London Planes. He stepped into the oasis that is St. James' Park, and instantly, he was surrounded by beautiful trees and immaculately laid out flower beds, set in lush green lawns, and there he found what he was looking for; some relative solitude and silence.

Edward slowed his pace and strolled along the winding footpaths in warm sunshine, until he reached the ornamental lake in the middle of the park. He found a vacant bench where he sat for a while, watching swans and several varieties of ducks, paddling around on the water that was glinting in the afternoon sun. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and turned his face up towards the source of the warmth, and after removing his sunglasses, relished the touch of the sun's rays on his face, seeing its red glow through his closed eyelids.

He eventually opened his eyes and surveyed the other patrons in the park with interest. He was so used to being recognized, he was constantly on the lookout for anyone who might blow his cover, so he watched carefully for that look in a stranger's eyes which would alert him that his identity had been discovered, and he would have to make a quick getaway. He spent the next half hour people-watching, which was something he rarely got the opportunity to do for any length of time, as on this particular sunny Sunday afternoon, no-one gave the scruffy young man, with long legs and a beanie hat, a second look.

Just in front of him he was watching a young mother, with two small children, sitting on the grass having a picnic. On the next bench, a young couple were kissing and cuddling, oblivious to anyone else around them. Walking past him, in a steady stream, were tourists from every corner of the globe, clutching maps and cameras, and in the distance, he could hear the sound of a military band playing a stirring marching anthem.

He closed his eyes again and savored this rare moment of anonymity. He was out on his own, in one of the busiest and most vibrant capital cities in the world, and for a few blissful moments, no-one knew, or cared, who he was.

After a few more minutes of idyllic relaxation, the peace was shattered by an ear-piercing scream. Edward looked up and saw the young mother, holding one struggling child under one arm, while trying, unsuccessfully, to pull the other one out of the lake with the other. He jumped off his seat and ran across the grass, kicking his shoes and socks off, and waded into the water, which was only ankle-deep at the edge.

He picked up the wriggling child, who was screaming blue murder and trying to punch and kick him at the same time. He held the obnoxious brat at arm's length, as he clambered out of the lake, then set him down on the grass. As he bent down to speak to him about how dangerous water could be, the boy whacked him across the face with his hand.

"I want to play in the water," he shrieked, then dived through Edward's legs, heading for the lake again. Edward grabbed his collar and hauled him back to his mother, who was shaking and crying.

"Can't you keep your children under control?" Edward shouted, as he rubbed his face. "A bit of discipline wouldn't go amiss here."

"They're not my children, I'm just their nanny," the young woman sobbed. "I'm not allowed to tell them off, or punish them; they can do whatever they like."

Edward still had hold of the boy, who was straining against his grip, trying to get back in the lake. His arms were flailing like a windmill and his podgy face was turning purple with rage. Edward guessed he was about five or six, but he was acting like a two-year old. He was tempted to pick him up with one arm and one leg, and fling him into the middle of the lake to teach him a lesson. Luckily, common sense prevailed, as he could imagine the headlines that would follow if someone spotted him doing it.

"Why isn't he in school?" Edward asked the weeping girl, forgetting for a minute that it was Sunday.

"He doesn't go to school; he's already been kicked out of two prep schools," the nanny replied. "He just lashes out when he doesn't get his own way. In the end the other parents insisted he was removed. Now no other private school will accept him, and his parents won't send him to a state school."

"My God! Being expelled at his age; that's quite something," Edward said; shocked that she had the responsibility for looking after this willful and aggressive child, who was completely out of control. He suddenly felt very sorry for this young girl, who was flinching every time the child screamed abuse at her, and he guessed the child had lashed out at her in the past.

"Has he ever hit you?" Edward asked, feeling concerned.

The girl nodded, and Edward saw more tears coming out of her eyes.

"Why do you work for these people; can't you leave?"

"The money's good, and I'm lucky to have a job at all," she sniffed.

Edward pitied this wretched girl, and didn't have the heart to walk away and leave her.

"Come on," he said, "let's go over to the cafe; I'll buy you a coffee. We can overdose these monsters on candy, so they'll be high as a kite on sugar when their parents get home."

The girl giggled and looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm Bree by the way."

"I'm uh - I'm Eddie; pleased to meet you."

They walked back to the buggy and picnic blanket, where Bree's belongings were scattered all over the grass. Edward piled everything onto the buggy, while Bree dried the boy's legs, then they walked slowly over to the cafe. The boy, whose name was Tristram, (pretentious prick's name if ever I heard one, Edward thought), was placated by the promise of ice cream, and had calmed down, but Edward retained a firm grip on his arm to stop him running off. The little girl, Imogen, was oblivious to what was going on, but even she had a permanent scowl on her face.

They found an empty table outside the cafe, and Edward ordered coffee and ice cream, plus a couple of extra chocolate bars each for the children. When they were distracted by their treats, Edward questioned Bree again about why she didn't look for another job.

"I'm lucky to have this one, Eddie; you see I can't read or write very well. Everyone thought I was thick at school, but in my early teens I was diagnosed as being severely dyslexic. It was too late for me to get help in time to take any exams, so all I can do is work where I don't need any qualifications."

Bree wasn't able to look at Edward in the eye when she was saying this; she just stirred her coffee with her spoon and fiddled with her napkin.

"But you must have had some training to be a nanny," Edward responded. "Their parents must have asked to see some evidence that you had done some sort of course."

"No they didn't; they were desperate. They've been through so many nannies; none of them lasted more than two weeks. I've been with them for over two months. I was employed by them as a cleaner first of all, but when their last nanny walked out without notice, I took over as an emergency, and they've kept me on. Before I went to work for them, I was unemployed and living in a hostel. At least now I have my own room and a nice bed."

Edward was looking at her with incredulity. He guessed she was only about nineteen or twenty, but the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She should have been a carefree teenager, wearing pretty clothes, looking forward to nights out with girlfriends, or the thrill of new love affairs. Instead, she looked exhausted and downtrodden; her clothes were cheap and ill-fitting, and her long straggly hair looked as though it hadn't been properly cut for years. Her face was thin and pale and she wore no make-up, but he could tell that under her neglected facade, there was a very lovely young woman, waiting to emerge.

"Where are you parents, Bree? Do you have any family at all?"

"No, not really. My mother died when I was quite small, and my father is an alcoholic. He's in and out of hospital because of liver disease, and probably won't be around much longer. My brother is in the army and hardly ever comes home; he has a girlfriend and baby in Scotland now. I left home as soon as I finished school and stayed with some friends, but they left London about six months ago, as it's getting too expensive to live here. That's when I moved into a homeless person's hostel."

"Is this your first job since you left school?" Edward asked, wondering what other disasters were in her background.

"No, I've worked in hotel kitchens, washing pots. I've been a cleaner and a waitress, but I've never earned enough to support myself. I don't think I'll ever be in that position. That's why I'm grateful for this job, even though it's very stressful."

Edward was feeling increasingly angry as Bree related her story. He could tell that she wasn't making it up to gain sympathy from him, as her body language told a more eloquent story than her words. The hunched and drooping shoulders and intermittent eye contact, were all the signals Edward needed to see that this girl was already defeated. She had patently accepted her lot; she would live on the edge of society for the rest of her life, with no hope of advancement.

As Bree was attending to Imogen, who was covering her face with the ice cream rather than eating it, it occurred to Edward that he had never spoken to anyone so poor and without hope before. The kids at the Prince's Trust were bright and capable, and had a future ahead of them, but this girl had no support mechanisms around her, to help her escape the drudgery of her current situation.

He reflected on his own upbringing. His parents were exceedingly wealthy, even by Californian standards. He had wanted for nothing, in a material sense, when he was growing up. The Cullen household had 'staff', in that his mother only got her hands wet in the bathroom; he couldn't ever remember her loading the washing machine, or washing dishes. His father wouldn't know which end of a screwdriver to hold, if anything needed fixing in one of their many residences. As far as he knew, their staff were adequately rewarded, but then he realized that whether they were well paid or not, had never occurred to him before.

Bree was drinking the last of her coffee and was making preparations to leave. Tristram was starting to get bored, and she could see another tantrum brewing.

"Thank you so much for helping me out, Eddie, and thanks for the coffee," Bree said, as she stood up to go.

Edward helped her strap Imogen into the buggy and loaded all her bags onto the handles. As they walked back towards the lake, Edward put his hand on her arm and pulled her to a stop.

"Bree, if you could do anything in your life, what would it be?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Just think about it; what have you always dreamed of doing?"

Bree thought about it for a moment, and then her face lit up with a broad smile.

"I want to write books; children's stories mainly. I've got lots of ideas in my head, but because I can't read or write, I'll never be able to do it."

Edward was taken aback by her response. He was expecting her to say something like, 'live on a tropical island with Harry Styles, in a lovely house with a yacht,' which is what he expected most girls of her age would say. But Bree just wanted self-esteem before material things, which made him feel totally unworthy of his own privileged situation at that moment.

They came to where Edward had been sitting when Tristram launched himself into the lake; Bree indicated that she needed to go in the opposite direction.

"Thank you so much again for helping me out, Eddie; I'm really grateful. It's been lovely talking to you this afternoon."

Edward offered his hand for her to shake.

"It's been an education talking to you Bree; I just hope some of your goodness rubs off on these children."

Bree blushed at the compliment, turned the buggy and started walking in the direction of Birdcage Walk. Turning to wave to Edward, she called back to him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Edward Cullen?"

Edward smiled. "Yeah, loads of times. Do you like him?"

"Nah, he's not my type. He's really up himself; thinks he's God's gift to women apparently. He's a good actor though. I'm a Bradley bitch!"

Edward burst out laughing and went and sat down on the bench again; watching her as she disappeared from view.

He leant back on the seat and stretched his legs out in front of him, reflecting on what had just happened. For the first time in his life he had 'connected' with someone from the 'real world', and not from the false existence of money and fame he had been born into and had never left.

He closed his eyes again and imagined what Bree's life would be like in one, two, or ten years time, and felt depressed. He now regretted not offering to help her; he was sure he knew someone, who knew someone, who could help her get out of the rut she was in.

As he was contemplating this, he heard Bruce Springsteen singing from his inside pocket, so he opened his eyes and flicked his cell phone open and saw that it was Jasper calling.

"Where the heck are you, Edward?" Jasper yelled down the phone, causing Edward to hold it away from his ear.

"In St. James's Park, enjoying the sunshine. I'll be back shortly. What the hell!"

"What is it; what's going on Edward?"

"Never mind; I'll call you back in a minute."

Edward had spotted Bree struggling to drag Tristram out of the lake again; this time she was successful. She pulled him, kicking and screaming, across the grass towards the picnic blanket, which was now back in the same place as before. She managed to strap Imogen into the buggy without letting go of Tristram, then produced a towel out of her bag and started cleaning him up, while he was yelling his head off and trying to hit her at the same time.

Edward got up and sprinted towards her, wondering why she had come back to the lake, when she had told him they were going home.

"Bree!" he called out while he was approaching her, but she didn't turn around.

"Bree!" he called again, and the girl looked up as he was standing over her.

"You must be mistaken; my name isn't Bree; it's Sharon."

Edward's mouth dropped open, and for a moment he was at a loss as to what to say or do. It was obvious the girl wasn't lying, as there was no hint of recognition in her eyes when she spoke. She just turned back to carry on cleaning up the brat, who was making the exercise as difficult as possible for her.

He turned around without saying any more and walked away, realizing instantly, and without question, he had dozed off on the bench and had dreamt the events of the previous hour or so.

He sat down on the bench again and put his head in his shaking hands, as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

He licked his lips, to see whether he could taste the remnants of his cup of coffee on them, but he couldn't.

He felt his face where Tristram had slapped him, but it wasn't tender any more.

He felt the bottom of his jeans, to see whether they were damp, but they were bone-dry.

He patted his hands on his pockets, and where the woman in the cafe had given him coins as change from a twenty-pound note, his pockets were empty.

"What the hell is happening to me?" he said aloud, but there was no-one there to answer his question.

He got up to leave, and was heading towards the park exit, thinking about Bree/Sharon, and feeling totally confused, when he stopped in his tracks. He flicked his cell phone open and called Jasper.

"What's going on, Edward?"

"Nothing, Jasper. I'll be back at the hotel soon. I'll get a cab when I get to The Mall. Can you text me a phone number; I've got something I need to do first."

When Edward received the information he needed from Jasper, he jogged back to the cafe and asked the man behind the counter whether he could borrow a pen and have a piece of paper. After jotting down some words and a phone number, he made his way back to where Sharon was sitting with the children, who were now eating biscuits.

Without hesitation, he walked up to Sharon and said 'excuse me' to get her attention.

"Look, Sharon, you may think I'm mad; can I ask if these are your children."

"No, I'm their nanny, why?"

"Do you like being a nanny?"

"No, I would rather be ..."

"Don't say anything more; because if you tell me you want to write children's books, I'm going to check myself in to the nearest psychiatric hospital, because I'm losing my mind. Here is the phone number of The Prince's Trust; they may be able help you do what you really want to do. Give them a call today; they might be able to turn your life around."

"How - ?"

"Stop – don't say it. Just call the number; they will help you do something with your life."

Edward turned on his heel, and jogged away from the bewildered girl, and didn't stop running until he got back to The Mall where he hailed a cab. Within fifteen minutes he was in the elevator at The Savoy, heading up to his suite. Jasper was already there, pacing up and down anxiously, as they were already running late for their Vogue photo session.

Edward crashed through the door and went straight into the bathroom without saying a word to Jasper, who could tell just by looking at him that he was agitated. Jasper opened his cell phone and found the number for his contact at Vogue and gave their apologies, saying that Edward would be about an hour late due to unforeseen circumstances. He flipped his phone shut, just as Edward let out a strangled cry.

"What the hell has happened, Edward? You've got to talk to me."

"I've lost my fucking mind, Jasper, that's what's fucking happened."

"Come out and talk to me. I've put Vogue on hold for the moment, but you must either talk to me, or get help from a professional."

After a few minutes, Edward unlocked the bathroom door and came out. Jasper had a whiskey waiting for him, and he pointed to the sofa, indicating that he should sit down.

Edward accepted the tumbler but didn't drink; he just swirled the amber liquid around as Jasper watched him intently.

After a few minutes Edward was ready to talk.

"I went to the park; got talking to a girl who was looking after some kids. We had a coffee together and then said goodbye."

"Well, so what?"

"It didn't happen! I was just...oh God; when you called me, you interrupted my daydream."

"Not again!" Jasper uttered, and put his head in his hands.

"After we'd talked in the cafe, I watched the girl walk away; then you rang. I was talking to you, and she was back on the grass in front of me again. It was all so real Jasper."

"Sorry, I don't understand why you are so freaked out? It's not unusual to have daydreams."

"I know, but this one was so...so real again; but totally different to the ones I've had when I was in bed?"

"Are you sure you want to be telling me this?"

"The ones I've had before; well, it's been like I've been taking part in someone else's fantasies, and I've been a willing participant in something that I would never do. Plus there's been a dream Edward, and a 'real-me' Edward, as though I was viewing myself as an outsider."

"Explain!"

"I've heard myself saying things I wouldn't normally say, and obviously I've done things or taken part in things that I wouldn't do in a million years, like shagging Tanya for instance, but this one - it was me talking."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! The girl was almost destitute, and she told me about her shitty life, and... "

"What, you mean you actually talked to a normal person; that's not usual for you?"

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"Do you really want me to tell you?"

Jasper took a swig of his own drink, before he launched into some home truths that Edward needed to hear.

"Edward, all your life you've been surrounded by rich and famous people; even your school was full of the children from the glitterati of Hollywood. You've led a privileged existence since the day you were born. You haven't got a clue what the real world is like for ordinary people."

"That's crap, Jasper. Of course I know what's going on out there, and I have talked to 'normal' people before." Edward did the 'air quotes' gesture to emphasize the point.

"Have you? Have you really _talked_ to normal, everyday people Edward? Tell me when?"

Edward thought for a second. "Okay, the girls who do my make-up on set, they're normal."

"Alright, what do you talk to them about?"

"Errr - I don't know; general chit-chat about the movie, I suppose."

"So, you talk about _you_ and what's going on in _your_ life don't you. Tell me, Edward, can you honestly remember a conversation where you asked the people who look after you; wait on _you_ hand and foot; do all the crappy jobs; anything about _their_ lives? You can't, can you? Edward, you've been so wrapped up in your own self-importance, for the whole of your nearly twenty eight years, you wouldn't know how to start that sort of dialogue, would you?"

Edward stared at Jasper, then looked down into his drink that still remained untouched.

"So, I'm an arrogant shit then, am I?"

"Sorry, Edward, but yes you are. You've never engaged with people who are 'not worth knowing', because frankly you're not interested in their lives, are you? You probably don't realize you're doing it, but sometimes you blank people who are speaking to you, as though they're not there. I'm not blaming you; I'm blaming your parents who kept you in an artificial bubble while you were growing up. I suspect the school you went to gave lessons on 'how to avoid talking to people who aren't going to make you money, or advance you professionally'."

"So, not only am I arrogant, but I'm shallow and arrogant?"

"What do you think?

"I don't know, Jasper. I don't know anything now. All I know is that this girl got to me; not in the Bella sort of way, she just - I suppose she opened my eyes to what is going on out there."

"In what way?"

Before answering, Edward thought about their conversation in the cafe, and his reaction to the air of hopelessness that hung over Bree, as she related the story of how she got to be where she was, and that she was grateful just to be employed. He realized now, that for the first time in his life, he had felt empathy towards someone who was not successful, or at least not striving to be successful.

"I guess I realized that we are not all born equal; the majority of people on the planet don't have the same opportunities I had. Before I met the imaginary Bree, or whatever her name is, I considered anyone who didn't succeed was just lazy, and couldn't be bothered trying hard to improve themselves. I now understand that...what I mean is that, if you're dealt a shit hand to start with, it is very difficult, sometimes impossible, to make anything of your life."

"Do you think you've worked hard to get in the position you are now? Give me an honest answer, Edward."

Edward thought about it for the moment, and then shook his head in resignation.

"I did work hard at school; I wanted to be the best at everything, for reasons that are my own, but I had everything else handed to me on a plate, I suppose. I was born stinking rich, and from a good looking gene-pool." Edward pointed at his face when he said that. "I went to good schools, but I've never had to sit an exam in my life. Now I'm worth millions, because I can act, and I've never had to work hard at doing that; it just came naturally. It's not fair really, is it?"

"Life isn't fair, Edward. There have always been the haves and have-nots, but as long as you realise you've got where you are, through a combination of good fortune and luck, plus some God-given talent, and you are kind and generous to those who haven't had the opportunities you've had, then you'll be okay. It's not too late to change your attitude and the habits of a lifetime."

"So, I've got to be nice to people now then?"

"Yes, and you can start by apologizing personally to the people from Vogue for being late when we get there, which means not getting me to do your dirty work as usual!"

"Do I do that?"

"Yes, all the time. Now get in the bathroom and sort yourself out. I'll call Vogue to say we're leaving in fifteen minutes."

Edward put his drink down and disappeared into the bathroom, while Jasper called his contact at Vogue. After he finished the call, Jasper sat on the sofa and reflected on the conversation that had just taken place.

Was Edward finally maturing at last? Jasper thought to himself. Whatever had happened to him in the last few days had had a profound impact on his personality, which was good news. Jasper's thoughts turned to Alice, and he wondered whether she really had done something to him, like cast a spell on him. But, like Edward, he didn't believe in witchcraft either, but he decided he was going to ask her straight out when they next spoke.

Edward came out of the bathroom in his boxers, then slung on the first pieces of clothing he touched. Within a few minutes he was ready to go.

Jasper looked at the Adonis that was standing in front of him and yes, he would give any top model a run for their money, and he could do it without any effort at all.

"Life isn't fucking fair," he muttered to himself, as he pushed Edward out the door.

* * *

**A/N**

**So the dreams are starting to have a positive effect on Edward, but will they have a permanent effect? The 'new' Edward takes his first tentative steps in the next few chapters. More fun, a bit of angst, mixed in with a dollop of Shakespeare.**

**Thanks again to my pre-reader Caroline, who makes a guest appearance in the next chapter, and thanks again for your reviews, especially where you are guessing what is going to happen next. It is great that you are involved in the story.**

**Joan xx**


	9. Chapter 9

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER NINE:**** – Models, Make-up and Manners**

* * *

Edward and Jasper arrived at the shoot on the South Bank, just over an hour late. Edward immediately went over to the director and principal photographer to apologize for his tardiness. He admitted falling asleep in the park and losing track of time.

The director, whose name was Sally, was very gracious, saying most A-listers turned up late anyway, so not to worry. They had already taken that into account when planning the shoot. She did tell him though that he was the first A-lister humble enough to apologize to her, face to face, so Edward earned plenty of brownie points for that.

He was escorted to a massive trailer, where makeup and hair-styling staff were working. He climbed the steps and entered what looked like a huge hairdressing salon, with large mirrors surrounded by lights fixed to the back walls, and worktops covered in make-up stretching the whole length of the trailer. Most of the seats were already occupied by models; some of whom he recognized, even though he didn't know their names. As he was guided by a member of staff towards a vacant chair, all the models ignored him after the first glance, but the staff, who were mostly all female, turned to look at him as he sat down.

"Good evening everyone," he called out cheerily. "I'm sorry I'm late – I nodded off in the park; I must be getting old!"

His greeting was taken with good humor by almost everybody. However, Edward picked up that a couple of the models were looking down their noses at him, as if he had just crawled out from under a rock.

"Stuck up cows," he thought.

His make-up girl came up to him and said hello, and started cleansing his face without saying anything else. He could tell she was nervous, as her hand was shaking slightly, so when he saw her looking at his reflection in the mirror, he gave her a broad smile.

"Hi, I'm Edward; what's your name?"

"Err, Hi. I'm Caroline."

"I am genuinely sorry I'm late, Caroline; I really did fall asleep in the park, and my agent is really pissed at me. Have I inconvenienced you in any way?"

"No, not at all. I'm contracted to be here until the shoot is finished anyway. By the time we've cleared up, it will be the early hours of the morning before I get home."

"Do you often work long hours?"

"No, not often. I'm freelance, so I work what hours I choose. I've worked for Vogue for years. When I had my children, this type of job fitted in with my work-life balance."

"How old are your children, Caroline?"

"They're eight and six; both girls, and they both want to be models."

Edward smiled and then had to keep very still while Caroline was brushing his eyebrows into shape.

"So how come you're doing my ugly face tonight, and not one of the models down there?"

Caroline blushed and shook her head, and Edward could tell there was a story there.

"Come on, tell me; did you have to draw lots, and you got the short straw?"

Caroline grinned. "Something like that. All the make-up girls here really wanted to look after you, but Sally insisted I did it because..."

"Because what? Tell me, why?"

Caroline lowered her voice to a whisper. A hairdryer was being used nearby, but she didn't want to be overheard.

"Well, to be honest, we were warned that you could be a bit arrogant and aloof, and sometimes could be very difficult. I got the job as I'm the most senior person here, and I've probably got the thickest skin. I've dealt with Naomi when she's been in full-rant, so if I could deal with her, I could deal with you. I don't know what they were worrying about, you seem really nice; not like they described at all."

Edward realized she was paying him a compliment, but here was yet another example of how people perceived him. Aloof. Arrogant. Difficult. What else was in their description of Edward Cullen? Was his reputation really as bad as all that?

He looked down at the line of models, who were having attention lavished on them. Only a couple of them were actually talking to the girls who were working miracles on their blank faces, and he was embarrassed for the others. But he realized, with shame, that he had been just like them. Jasper was right; he had blanked people before as not worth talking to, and he was utterly mortified now that he had behaved like that in the past.

Caroline was using a large powder brush on his face, when she stopped, and smiled at him.

"If you don't mind me saying, you really are naturally very handsome. We get a lot of film stars doing shoots like this, and they look like nothing without a serious amount of make-up; but your looks are classic. You could have been a top model, if you hadn't gone into acting, you know."

"Thanks, Caroline, I'll take that as a great compliment, as it's coming from you."

"You're welcome. I wish all movie stars were as nice as you. I could gossip, but I'm not going to."

Edward grinned at her through the mirror. He was enjoying the conversation, and he could tell the other make-up artists were listening in to their chatter. Caroline gave his face a last flick of the brush and assessed her handiwork.

"You'll do," she said, then she beckoned over the hair stylist, who had been hovering behind her for the last five minutes. His name was James, and he obviously batted for the other team. He was all over Edward like a rash, and was waxing lyrical about Edward's 'beautiful locks' and 'fab-u-lous highlights'.

"Are they natural dah-ling, or have you had a 'do'" he flounced. "If so, I want your stylists name and number."

"No, James, they're natural. Just a bit of Californian sunshine brings out the auburn, which I get from my mother. Are yours natural?"

James burst into a cackle of laughter, as his hair was heavily highlighted, with wide stripes of color.

"Hardly, gorgeous; unless my father was a zebra, and my mother didn't have the heart to tell me!"

Edward chuckled. He was enjoying the banter and was totally at ease. In the past he would not have engaged with any of the staff, unless he was unhappy.

"They must have thought I was an arrogant prick," he mused.

James had finished styling his hair, and took a great deal of time brushing stray hairs off his shoulders and down his back, just a little bit further south than necessary Edward thought. Not that it would matter; he would soon be changing into the first of the outfits he would be wearing this evening. He called goodbye to the staff in the trailer, and made his way over to another smaller trailer where his wardrobe was housed.

Jasper was loitering outside the wardrobe trailer with Sally, and had heard the chorus of 'goodbyes' from the stylists. He guessed that Edward had made an effort and talked to them, and hoped he had enjoyed the experience. Sally raised an eyebrow, as she was well aware of Edward's reputation, and had warned her staff to try not to upset him.

"Wonders will never cease," Jasper said to her and winked.

Edward disappeared into the wardrobe trailer and came out about ten minutes later, wearing an immaculate Alexander McQueen tuxedo.

"This is great," Edward commented, hoping he might be able to take the suit home with him, as it had been made to measure specially for the shoot.

Caroline came up and checked him over for stray hairs and blemishes, and when she had given him the all-clear, she handed him over to Sally. They walked off together, with Jasper following behind, until they reached the river wall near City Hall.

In front of them, on the opposite side of the river, was an incredible view of the London skyline, with Tower Bridge in the foreground, beautifully lit up in blues and yellows against the darkening night sky. Edward gazed appreciatively at the imposing spectacle of London's ancient buildings that stood shoulder to shoulder with the newer glass and steel 21st Century architecture. He stood for a moment to admire what he was seeing, as he was directly opposite The Tower of London, parts of which were almost a thousand years old, and he tried to imagine what London was like when the White Tower was built by William the Conqueror.

Standing by the wall, also looking at the view, was a famous model, who Edward recognized from magazine covers but couldn't remember her name. She was very tall, with long, silky, almost white-blonde hair. She was wearing a full-length gold dress, with a black wool wrap around her shoulders, protecting her from the chilly evening air. Edward whispered to Sally to ask who she was.

"That's Amelia Spink," Sally replied. "She's the next 'big thing' and knows it. She'll probably pretend not to know who you are, so prepare to be blanked."

"Thanks for the warning; believe me, I know all about blanking," Edward responded with a grin. "This should be fun," he thought to himself.

He walked up to the wall and looked out over the river at the view of the bridge in one direction, and St. Paul's Cathedral in the other. He totally ignored Amelia, who was still leaning on the wall, smoking a cigarette.

He turned away from the wall and went over to the photographer, and looked with interest at his selection of cameras. He chatted to him for a few moments, while his assistants were adjusting the lights, then he walked back towards the wall. He heard Emily draw in a breath, as though she was expecting him to speak to her, but he carried on walking behind her, totally ignoring her again. He went over and spoke to Caroline, who was watching what he was doing with some amusement.

In the end, Edward went up to Amelia and spoke.

"Hi, I'm Edward Cullen, and you are?"

Amelia looked down her nose at him and tutted.

"Don't you read fashion magazines at all? My name is all over them."

"Nah! Not interested darling. Can't be doing with stick thin girls with no tits, wearing clothes that no-one would dream of wearing, other than on a catwalk. Anyway, you didn't answer my question; what's your name?"

"Amelia Spink."

"Sorry, did you say Amelia Spunk? Seriously!"

"Spink; I said Spink."

"Right. I bet you were called Spunky Spink at school though?" Edward roared laughing.

"No I wasn't; I went to an all girl's school, where everybody had _good manners,_" Amelia hissed.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Amelia. I was called all sorts of names at my school, because my hair was redder then. I'm just having a bit of fun. Lighten up and get the plug out your ass."

"What do you mean? Don't be so fucking rude!"

"Amelia, if you had been brought up to have 'good manners'," Edward did the air-quotes-thing, "you would have told me your name straight away; not act like I'm a moronic low-life you're having to consort with. So let's start again.

"Hi, I'm Edward Cullen, and you are?"

"Amelia Spink."

"Pleasure to meet you, Amelia; I hope we can have an enjoyable evening together. I'm an actor, not a model, as you probably know, so any pointers from you will be gratefully appreciated."

Amelia surveyed him with narrowed eyes, and took a last drag from her cigarette, before tossing the butt into the river.

"Okay, Edward Cullen; correct me if I'm wrong. You're obviously not the rude, conceited, self-important shit, with an over-inflated ego, I was led to believe I would be working with this evening?"

"No, I'm not; I don't know what or who gave you that idea?"

Edward was taken aback again, but didn't show it. Amelia continued.

"I heard you talking to the make-up girl, and if she hadn't been middle aged and chubby, I would have thought you were coming on to her. But you seem a nice enough guy; despite your reputation. So if you're up for it, let's have a bit of fun tonight."

"Nothing wrong with being middle aged and chubby in my book, Amelia."

"Whatever turns you on, Edward!" and Amelia laughed.

"That's better," Edward grinned. "You have a beautiful smile; it's a shame the public don't get to see it at all."

"Oh! So you have seen me in magazines then, Edward?" Amelia chuckled, then shook her head ruefully.

"Models aren't paid to smile; they pout, they stare, their faces are blank pages. Photo shoots are about the designers and the clothes, not the person they're hanging off."

"Well, let's make this shoot different then, shall we?"

"Okay, Edward, I'm game if you are; but the client might not be very happy."

At that moment the photographer shouted that he was ready to start. Amelia removed her wrap, covering the stunning, old-gold, silk, 1930's-style evening gown, that was clinging to every part of her super-slim frame. She shivered as the cool air touched her bare skin, so Edward pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. Amelia looked up into his face and smiled, and Edward grinned back.

Sean, the photographer, was snapping away, while Edward and Amelia practically danced in front of him, refusing to do the 'moody pouty look' he was begging for. Edward spun Amelia round, so the flare in her dress rippled around her legs, and they flirted outrageously for the camera.

"Come on guys; play the game. Let's have some stylish poses; this isn't a fucking party," Sean begged, but Edward and Amelia carried on doing their thing.

Amelia flung her arms around Edward's neck and turned towards Sean.

"I'm having the time of my life, can't you see; I'm with the most gorgeous man on planet Earth, so how would any woman react in his presence. I'm not going to look miserable, because I'm not fucking miserable."

Edward shrugged his shoulders, then dipped Amelia so she was leaning backwards. Sean took several pictures of them laughing, then Edward picked her up and spun her around again.

"So, you think I'm gorgeous do you? That's not going to do anything towards reducing my over-inflated ego you know."

"Yes, you're gorgeous, and you're nice too, but don't let it go to your head. Thanks for the lecture tonight though, and sorry for being up myself when we met. I've had the best time as well, but I think Sean's a bit pissed."

"You're welcome, Amelia, but don't worry, I'm sure you'll still have a job tomorrow morning."

Amelia laughed and gave him a kiss on both cheeks, then waved goodbye as she walked back to the trailer. Her job was done for the evening, but she was going to get changed, then watch the rest of the shoot. She was intrigued to see whether Edward could work his magic on some of the other models, who she knew were more up themselves than she was. She silently wished him luck, and also wished she had asked for his phone number.

Already waiting for the next take, was a stunning redhead called Francesca. She was hopping up and down with excitement, as she had watched the whole of Amelia's shoot, and couldn't wait to get her hands on Edward. In her opinion, Edward was absolutely delicious. She had already decided to give Edward her phone number, and anything else he desired, if he was willing.

By the end of the night, he had posed with six models, in front of various London landmarks. They had all smiled, beamed, grinned and laughed throughout the shoot. The photographer had given up trying to alter the mood, and had gone with it, as all the models agreed that if Vogue readers had put themselves in their place, and had had the opportunity to wrap themselves around Edward Cullen for the evening, they would be smiling too.

Every member of the support team had followed the shoot to the different locations, and had come out of their warm trailers to observe the 'Cullen magic' being worked on this group of models. They were amused to watch the ingrained aloofness of this special breed of female, disappear into the cool night air. The long evening ended with bottles of champagne being passed around in a party atmosphere, and Edward being kissed and propositioned by two of the models. He told them that regretfully he was off to Paris tomorrow, and had to be up early to catch a flight, so had to decline their kind invitations.

When he eventually got into his car with Jasper, he had a smug look on his face.

"How did I do, Jasper? Was I friendly, sociable and affable enough for you?"

"Before I answer that, Edward; did you enjoy yourself this evening?"

"Yes, I did, very much."

"And did you feel uncomfortable being friendly, sociable and affable?"

"No, I didn't."

"So, what I think doesn't really matter does it?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

Edward leaned his head back on the headrest of the comfortable car, and looked out onto the still-bustling London streets. It was nearly two in the morning, and the city was still alive with party-goers and clubbers, either staggering home, or looking for another venue that was still open.

While they were waiting at traffic lights, he spotted a girl trying to walk down a cobbled street in ridiculously high heels, and was amused when she collided with a young man who was obviously a bit drunk, but he helped her until she got onto a flat bit of pavement. They started talking, but Edward's car moved on, so he didn't know the outcome of the chance meeting. Maybe they hit it off, or maybe they went their separate ways, never to meet again. Whatever, he would never know, but he envied their freedom, just to walk around the town, without constantly looking over their shoulders.

The car dropped Edward and Jasper at The Savoy, and they wandered through the deserted foyer to the elevators. Edward was yawning and rubbing his knuckles in his eyes, but Jasper was still quite alert.

"Early morning call tomorrow, Edward. We've got to be at City Airport by nine, so set your alarm for seven. It's a private jet, so we'll have breakfast on the plane. The air traffic controllers strike is over, so hopefully our flight will be able to take off on time."

"Great," Edward mumbled. "I hope I don't have one of my dreams tonight then."

"Well, if you do, you've got plenty of beautiful ladies to dream about. Let me think there was Amelia, Cassandra, Bryony, Sharina, Francesca -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know; I'll probably end up with Sally though, and she's got to be at least sixty."

Jasper laughed, and bid Edward goodnight when he got to his floor. Edward continued to the top floor and fell into his suite, heading straight for the bathroom, where he did the absolute minimum to clean himself up, then face-planted on the bed with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

"Uuuuuurhhhh," he said out loud, as he relaxed onto the comfortable mattress. He lay there for several minutes, but as he was nodding off, he noticed that he could smell a heavy fragrance like magnolia or jasmine. He went to move his arms, to see whether his hands smelled of the soap he used in the bathroom, but quickly realized he couldn't move his arms at all. He looked up and noticed that his wrists had rope around them, and the ends were tied to posts at the corner of the bed. He tried to move his legs, but they too were tied to posts at the foot of the bed, and the realization hit him that he was not in his hotel bed at all, he was in someone else's.

He turned his head, this way and that, to pick up clues as to who owned this bed. The room was beautifully furnished, but he couldn't see any photographs anywhere, but there was an amazing painting of a nude man on the opposite wall.

"Kinky," Edward thought, and his mind started flashing through all the girls he had met this evening; wondering which one of them had an adventurous side to them.

He could hear movement in what he presumed was an en-suite bathroom, where he could see light seeping out from under a door. He wriggled around on the bed so he could get a good view of who was in there, and he had to admit to himself he was actually quite excited. He wasn't into BDSM, or other such pastimes, but this was just a dream, so what the hell.

He heard a cupboard door being shut, then the door handle being turned. As the door opened, he started wondering why he was face-down on the bed, not on his back, as his tackle was underneath him, and therefore not accessible to be played with.

**"****Edward darling; I hope your fine arse is ready for me?"**

Edward froze.

"Fuck – it's a guy. I bet it's James; he was definitely coming on to me. Oh hell, no, I don't want this."

The door opened fully, and a tall, naked man walked over to the bed, and ran his soft hands up Edward's legs and over his butt, spreading him apart. Then Edward felt strong fingers sliding between his cheeks.

**"****You have such beautiful, firm buttocks, Edward; I haven't been able to stop thinking about them all day."**

Realization hit Edward like a sledgehammer; it was the masseur.

_"__Oh Jesus, help me! If I don't wake up now, I'm going to be 'rogered', by Roger!"_

* * *

**_A/N_**

**__****As a thank-you to Caroline, my pre-reader, I gave her the part of Edward's make-up artist, so she could get nice and close to his face. I described Caroline in the story as middle aged and 'chubby'. I would like to say in my defense that every woman standing next to a model like Amelia would look chubby!**

**__****_A lot of you guessed that Roger would feature in his next dream, so hopefully I got you wondering whether it would be James, the gay hairdresser, instead (evil smirk)._**

**_I bet you're not even reading this, but hitting that 'next' button already, to see whether Roger has his way with Edward._**

**_Oh! you're still here - why? Hit that button ..._**

**_Joan x_**


	10. Chapter 10

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER TEN - Strikes, Spells and Shakespeare**

* * *

_"__No, no, no! Get off me, Roger! I'm straight. __Stop, stop, for fuck sake, stop."_

Edward was thrashing around on the bed, and pillows were flying off in all directions, when the hotel phone rang on the nightstand, waking him up.

"Oh my Holy God; saved by the fucking bell," he cried, and grabbed the phone, holding it against his chest, to give himself a few seconds to ensure he could speak coherently.

"Who is this?"

"It's Jasper; you weren't answering your cell. Were you asleep?"

"Yes, but thank Christ you woke me; I was having a nightmare."

"Was it Sally then?"

"No. Sally can ravage me any time she likes compared to what I was experiencing. It was the masseur."

"Was she a bit butch then?"

"You could say that – she was a he called Roger."

Jasper couldn't stop himself, but roared out laughing, much to the annoyance of Edward, who was wiping the sweat off his forehead, while Jasper was weeping with mirth on the other end of the phone.

"It's not that fucking funny, you bastard; I was terrified."

Jasper tried to respond, but he couldn't string two words together, as he was imagining Edward being manhandled by a guy. He knew Edward was not homophobic, but sexually he was as straight as an arrow, which made it even funnier.

"What are you phoning for anyway, Jasper; it's nearly three in the morning, for Christ's sake."

Jasper was starting to calm down now and could speak again without laughing.

"Just to tell you to turn your alarm off; the air traffic controllers' strike is back on again. We're trying to get tickets for the Eurostar, so we can get to Paris via the tunnel at some point during the day. It might be difficult, or impossible though, as everyone's trying that way. I'll call you in the morning to let you know what's happening. You can get back to your dream now about Roger the Masseur. Maybe you'll really like it, and get to 'roger' Roger in return; ha ha ha!

Edward didn't answer, but slammed the phone down hard. He put his face in his hands and fell backwards on the pillow-less bed, facing upwards this time, just to be on the safe side. He was genuinely frightened to go back to sleep, but he knew he would have to or he would look and feel like death tomorrow.

Even though Edward didn't want to admit it, he was becoming more and more convinced that Alice had cast a spell on him. He didn't know much about witchcraft, but he thought about what Alice had done or said to him at The Graham Norton Show, but he couldn't recall her saying or doing anything out of the ordinary. The Tanya 'nightmare' occurred before he saw Alice again at the restaurant, so unless she could cast a spell on him remotely, it must have happened at the BBC studio.

He resolved that if he couldn't get over to Paris in the morning, he would arrange to meet up with Alice and sort this out, once and for all. He would be polite and restrained, but if she had played a trick on him, any idea of friendship in the future, whether she was Jasper's girlfriend or not, would be blown out the water.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to stay awake. He thought about Bella, and his dog back home in the States, and the Oakland Raiders, and bacon double-cheeseburgers in Burger King, and...

* * *

Just before eight, the hotel phone rang again. Edward flung his arm out to grab the source of the unwelcome disturbance and sling it across the room, but he missed; only managing to knock the receiver off the cradle. He could hear Jasper shouting his name, and reluctantly he reached over the side of the bed and picked it up off the floor.

"What?"

"Just to say we can't get to France today; all the trains and ferries are booked solid. I've tried to hire a private plane that could land in a small airfield, but the pilot can't get flight clearance across the Channel, so you can go back to sleep for a while. Were you and Roger having a final roll in the hay by any chance?"

"No, but you woke me from a dreamless sleep, so thanks a lot," Edward responded sarcastically.

"That's all the thanks I get from saving you from Roger's p..."

"Don't say it fucker; just don't say any more."

"I was going to say persistence! Anyway, you have a free day, so enjoy. What are you going to do?"

"I want to meet up with Alice and talk to her about these dreams. I need her number; can you text it to me."

"I'll call her and ask her if I can give it to you; I'll get back to you on that. I don't just give people's private numbers out to anyone; even to you, Edward."

"Okay, just tell her I'd like to have a chat; in person if she wants."

"Alright, leave it with me."

Edward put the phone down and swung his legs out of bed and sat there for a few minutes gathering his thoughts. He had managed to get nearly five hours of dream-less sleep, and was feeling better for the rest. Maybe he had broken the cycle and might not need to see Alice, he mused; but he had asked Jasper for her number now. He couldn't backtrack, as she would soon find out he wanted to speak to her.

He got up from the bed and wandered into the bathroom, and as he was closing the door, his cell phone beeped. He went back in his bedroom and saw that Jasper had forwarded Alice's number.

He ordered a room service breakfast and had a shower before it arrived. After he finished eating and was on his second cup of coffee, he rang Alice's number. She answered on the third ring.

"Hi, Alice Brandon. Who is this?" she responded perkily.

"It's Edward; Jasper gave me your number."

"Oh, yes. Hi, Edward, what can I do for you?"

"Can I come and see you today, sometime."

"Today's going to be difficult; I'm really booked up with signings and interviews from Midday onwards."

"Where are you now?"

"In a cab, on my way to the National Theater. I'm going to watch one of Bella's rehearsals."

Edward thought quickly; he could get out of the room in ten minutes, and be at the theater in another fifteen. He wanted to look Alice in the eye when he asked her about the dreams; to make sure she wasn't lying. An added bonus would be that he could see Bella on stage, even if it was only Shakespeare and a rehearsal.

"Can I meet you there, Alice, in half an hour?"

"I don't see why not. Bella gave me a pass and said I could bring a friend with me if I wanted, so yeah, I'll see you in the foyer. They are due to start rehearsals at about nine thirty, so you've got time."

"Okay, see you then."

"Alright, Edward; but you still haven't told me why you want to see me."

"I'll explain when I get there."

Edward hung up, then called the front desk to ask them to make sure a cab was waiting out front for him when he came down. He rushed around, slinging clothes on and shoving his cell phone and wallet in his pocket, then ran out of the room, down the corridor and into the elevator. He waved to the girl on the front desk, who was signalling to the doorman, who then directed him into the waiting cab. Within ten minutes of disconnecting the call to Alice, he was on his way. Fortunately, it was too early for the paparazzi to be up and about, so he was relieved he wasn't going to be followed.

The traffic was quite heavy, but he made it in time. The cab dropped Edward off behind the theater, and he ran up the side street towards the steps that led up to the main entrance, which faced the River Thames. He could see Alice waiting for him, and she waved and opened the door as he got to the top step, slightly puffed out.

"Quick," Alice said, and got hold of him by his arm and dragged him through the foyer. They hurried down a short flight of steps and through a set of wooden double doors that had drawn, heavy drapes on the inside. She pushed these apart, and they stepped into the dark, cool and silent auditorium; the only lights on being the ones on the stage, which was deserted apart from a few stage hands moving props to various positions on the floor. Edward could see about seven or eight people sitting in the fourth and fifth rows, but Alice pulled him towards one of the side seats about ten rows behind them and made him sit down.

"It's just about to start, Edward," she whispered, "so be quiet for the moment. We can talk when they're having a break."

Edward nodded and settled himself in the seat, which wasn't very comfortable. His knees were pressing against the chair in front, so he asked Alice to swop so he could sit with his long legs stuck out in the aisle. He had just made himself comfortable, when music from a sound system started playing, and the first actors appeared on stage. They were all men, dressed in old-fashioned twentieth-century clothing, and talking with New York accents, but the language was very odd.

"What's going on, Alice? I thought this was Shakespeare," he whispered. "Aren't they supposed to be Italian, and in sixteenth century costumes?"

"It is Shakespeare, Edward, but this adaptation has been set in 1930's New York. It's the same words, but the families are second and third generation immigrant Italians, not Italian noblemen. That's the beauty of Shakespeare; it's timeless. You can adapt the plays to any era. That's why this version has been such a big hit on Broadway; just watch."

Edward had difficulty picking up the poetry of the words to start with, but after about ten minutes, his posture had changed. Rather than being slumped in his seat, he was sitting up and leaning forward, with his arms resting on the chair in front of him and his chin resting on his arms.

After a short break when the director was talking to one of the actors, the play restarted and Bella made her first entrance, sweeping onto the stage in the role of Katherina. Edward was immediately captivated.

The exchanges between Katherina and Petruchio were tingling with electricity, as they flung witty retorts back and forth like ping pong balls. Edward was mesmerized by her presence on stage, and only had eyes for her, even when she was surrounded by other actors.

He instantly recognized Bella's own character in Katherina's mannerisms, and in the way she spoke to Petruchio and others, as this sixteenth century girl had the same feistiness and attitude that Bella possessed.

His experiences with Bella over the last four days, were similar to what was being exacted on Petruchio on the stage. For a moment, he wondered whether playing this part on tour for several months, and then on Broadway, had had an effect on Bella's personality, as the similarities between the character and Bella were obviously there, in plain sight, for all to see.

After the first act was over, Edward slumped back in his seat, mentally exhausted.

Edward recalled the relatively few times he had acted in a theater, which was while he was at stage school in LA; but his experience was nothing like this. The most he had ever had to memorize were a few pages of dialogue; absolutely nothing compared to what Bella was delivering up there.

"What do you think?" Alice asked, but she could see that Edward was really at a loss for words for a moment. Eventually he spoke.

"I'm astounded, to be honest, Alice. I've only ever read Shakespeare off the page; I've never seen it performed on the stage. I thought I was going to be bored, but I wasn't. On paper, it's a foreign language; on stage, it isn't. When you see it performed, the words come to life, and you don't need to have the prose explained to you; it's all there, in front of you."

Alice looked at him in amazement. She wasn't expecting Edward to be so lyrical, but it was obvious he had been drawn in by the spectacle being laid before him. She went to say something, but Edward said "Shush," as Act Two was just starting.

Edward shuffled forward and leant over the seat in front of him again, and was soon engrossed by the beauty of the words being performed on stage, and the skill of the actors delivering them.

In the middle of the third Act, Alice whispered in Edward's ear that she had to go, as she had to be at a book signing in Oxford Street in half an hour. Edward gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and moved to the side, so she could get out of her seat. She was just about to leave the auditorium, when Edward remembered that he hadn't spoken to her about his dreams. Without thinking, he jumped up from his seat and shouted, "Alice!" then realized what he had done.

The actors on the stage carried on as though nothing had happened, but Edward could tell they were looking to see where the disturbance had come from, and Edward's eyes and Bella's locked for a few seconds. Edward mouthed "Sorry" to her, and sprinted up the aisle, catching Alice, just as she was disappearing through the drapes.

"Alice, I need to talk to you, just for a minute."

Edward took a deep breath.

"Look, this is a bit difficult for me. I've been having weird and disturbing dreams lately; actually, since we met on The Graham Norton Show. I wondered whether you had cast a spell on me as a joke?"

Alice looked at him for a few seconds, then laid her hand on his arm.

"Edward, I promise I have not cast a spell on you. If your dreams are disturbing you, why don't you come and see me and let me analyse your dreams. Call me again later, and we can have a chat."

Edward shook his head. "I don't think that's necessary, Alice; I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"That's okay, Edward. Now I must dash; you go back and watch the end of the performance, and for heaven's sake, keep quiet!"

Edward wandered back into the auditorium and sat back in the same seat, even though there were hundreds of others to choose from. Within a few minutes, he was immersed in the story again, and stayed right until the end. He stood up to leave, but as he was walking back up the aisle to the exit, a stage hand called to him.

"Are you Mr Cullen?"

"Yes, I am; why?"

"Miss Swan has asked me to tell you to wait for her. She'll be about fifteen minutes. She says she'll meet you in the foyer."

"I'd rather hang around here, if that's okay? I might get recognized in the foyer. Can you tell her where I'll be.

The stage hand nodded in agreement and walked back towards the stage.

Edward sat down again and switched his phone off silent-mode. He saw there were several missed calls from Jasper, plus some text messages starting with 'Where are you?', then 'Where the hell have you gone?', ending several messages later with 'for f-sake get in contact; for all I know you could have been kidnapped you dick-head'!

Edward grinned and rang Jasper, holding the phone away from his ear when he heard it connect.

"About time, Edward. Where the hell are you? I went up to your room and you'd gone. Don't do that to me."

"What's the panic, Jasper? You said I had the day off, so I'm having a day off."

"Paris is setting up a video link, so you can do your interviews from a room in the hotel. I need you back here by three. You haven't left London, have you?"

"No, I'm still here. Okay, Jasper, I'll be back then. Goodbye."

"Hold on, you haven't said where you are. Are you with Alice?"

"That's right, I haven't said where I am. Bye, Jasper!"

Edward turned his phone off completely and relaxed into his chair to wait for Bella. The stage hands were back, clearing away the few props from Bella's play and replacing them with the props for the afternoon's performance. After another ten minutes, he saw Bella climbing down the stairs at the side of the stage, so he got up as she was walking towards him.

Bella was wearing her tight black jeans again, this time with a black T-shirt with the Rolling Stones emblem of Mick Jagger's mouth on the front in pink and red sparkles. Over that she wore a black biker's leather jacket. Her hair was swept back in a ponytail and her face was clear of make-up.

"Hi," she said, as Edward bent down and kissed her on her forehead.

"You're not going to kick me on my other leg for that, are you?" Edward said nervously.

"No, I've just got normal Converse on today. If I'd known you were coming, I would have worn the ones with steel toecaps though!"

Edward laughed as Bella grinned up at him.

"Do you know somewhere where we can go and talk in private, Bella?"

"Sure, there's a cafe not far from here we all use. Is that private enough for you?"

Edward took her hand and kissed it.

"No, but for the moment it will have to do."

Bella slipped her hand in Edward's and guided him down the aisle towards the wings, from where they could exit the theater via the stage door. As they were climbing the steps to the stage, Edward was trying to decide whether Bella was still wearing the mantle of Katherina, the feisty firecracker from Padua, or whether she had taken off Katherina when she removed her costume, and left her behind in the dressing room.

While he was watching Bella on stage, he had wondered whether her personality would be as volatile if she were playing Juliet, or Rosalind, or any of Shakespeare's other heroines? Was Katherina's presence in her life so heavily entrenched in her psyche that she couldn't shake her off when she left the theater? Or was this lively, tempestuous spirit he had got to know in the past few days, the real Bella Swan; the genuine article who hailed from Boston, Massachusetts? He would never have an answer to that question, as the Bella who was now leading him through the narrow corridors towards the stage door, would be the only one he would ever know.

Whichever character had control of Bella's personality now, the real one or the written one, when he walked out into the daylight, he was determined, like Petruchio, to 'Tame this Shrew' in one way or another. He wasn't going to let another day go by, without attempting to convince her to reconsider having a relationship with him. He would do whatever it took to make her realize that she could have it all; a career and a lover.

And if that meant getting down on his knees and begging, which was something Petruchio would never do, he would do that for her too.

* * *

**A/N**

**Has Katherina and Bella become one person, and do you think Alice is lying when she promised Edward she hadn't cast a spell on him? I'm loving all your guesses, so please keep them coming.**

**Joan xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**********__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN ****– Prose, Photos and Paparazzi (and a bit of Passion)**

* * *

Bella took Edward's hand, as if it was the most natural thing to do, and they walked down the aisle together. She led him backstage, through a maze of dimly lit corridors filled with costumes and props, past a line of dressing rooms, one of which had her name on the door. The narrow corridor led towards the stage door at the rear of the theater, and as Bella pushed the heavy door open, the dazzling light of day hit them, and they both had to blink a few times to readjust their eyes to the brightness.

Edward had completely lost track of time. He looked down at his watch and was amazed to see it was already past one o'clock. Time had flown by in the theater, as he had been so absorbed by what was happening in front of him. He realized, with regret, he would only have a short time with Bella, before he had to go back to The Savoy for another tedious junket interview.

Bella was pulling him along the road, and after a few minutes of quick walking, they arrived at a small and slightly run-down cafe, tucked between two office buildings down a narrow side street. The cafe, called 'Carlo's', was set back from the building-line, so was completely invisible from the main road and consequently any passing trade. Considering how expensive land values were in this part of London, Edward was surprised the cafe hadn't been flattened in the past to make way for yet another generic office building and wondered how it made ends meet.

Bella pushed the shabby door open, and was greeted by an elderly man of Mediterranean appearance, who waved at her as he was cleaning the coffee machine.

"Hi, Carlo, can I have my usual please?

"What would you like?" she whispered to Edward.

"Uh, I don't know; same as you?"

"For two please, Carlo."

"Okay, _Bella Bellissima_; coming right up."

"What are we having?"

"Coffee and Eggs Benedict, is that okay?"

Edward nodded and they sat down at a small table at the back of the cafe. There were two other couples at separate tables having a late breakfast, and they said 'hello' to Bella as she sat down.

"Do you know those people?" Edward asked.

"Yes, those two were on stage with me, and the other two work backstage. Hardly anyone knows this cafe is here, which is why the theater uses it. Look around you.

Edward's eyes scanned the small cafe, that had about ten square tables covered with red and white check vinyl tablecloths. He noticed that the walls were covered with dozens of framed pictures of famous actors and actresses posing with Carlo, and a lady Edward presumed was his wife. Some of the pictures were taken many years ago, when Carlo still had hair, and most were in black and white, but he spotted two recent ones of Carlo with Daniel Radcliffe and Helen Mirren that were in color. Edward was aware he was looking at a veritable who's who of some of the most famous actors who had ever graced the English stage. He was not very knowledgeable about theater, but even he recognized greats such as Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud and Judy Dench.

"This place is a well-guarded secret, and even the paparazzi don't bother us here," Bella told him. "In their stone-hard hearts, there is still a tiny spot of decency, and it's an unwritten rule they don't follow us to this place." Bella waved at another group of people who had just entered the cafe and were heading towards a vacant table near the window.

Carlo brought the coffee over and some clean cutlery.

"Are you an actor?" he asked Edward, as he stared at him for a few seconds, trying to see if he recognized him.

"Only movies, I'm afraid. I'm not in Bella's league," Edward joked.

"Never mind," Carlo replied sympathetically. "Maybe one day you'll be good enough to make it onto the stage."

Edward's mouth dropped open, and Bella chuckled behind her hand as Carlo walked away shaking his head.

"Sorry about that. Carlo doesn't have much time for movies or today's music. He's only interested in theater and opera."

"So, I'm not worthy enough to go on his wall?"

"No, you're not; but then again neither am I, until he's seen me perform. Then he'll judge whether I'm worthy to be up there. You might think I'm joking, but I've been told by the other actors, that getting your photo on this wall is like getting a Tony Award in New York, or an Olivier Award in London. If your photo's on Carlo's wall, then you've arrived!"

Their eggs were served to them by Carlo's son, (also called Carlo), and they got stuck in. Edward had already had eggs that morning, but he was starving, and these surpassed those served in the hotel.

"What did you think of the rehearsal, Edward; was it what you expected?"

"Absolutely not; I had no idea you could set Shakespeare in any other setting than four hundred years ago, but it just seemed to fit. The story was just as relevant set in that era, even though it was misogynistic. I suppose life for women in the 1930's was not so different than in the 16th century. Men still ruled the world back then, and definitely ruled the household, or thought they did!"

Bella laughed, totally agreeing with what he said.

"What about the dialogue, could you understand it?"

"Yes, after a while. It took me some time to get used to the rhythm, and occasionally I lost the meaning, but the acting filled in the gaps, as you could always understand what was going on. I didn't expect it to be so funny in places."

Bella smiled, as she could tell by his enthusiasm that Edward had experienced a 'eureka' moment this morning, and she was very glad. She could recall the exact place and time when she fell in love with Shakespeare, which was when she thirteen. She had been taken by her grandmother to see _As You Like It_, when her grandparents were on their annual visit to Boston from their home in Texas. From then on, she had lived and breathed Shakespeare, to the detriment of most other playwrights, and she had been determined, from that moment on, to dedicate her career to his work.

Edward was shaking his head. "What's the matter?" Bella asked him

"Your skill on the stage made me feel inferior as an actor. I mean, how do you remember all those lines? I wouldn't have a prayer trying to learn a whole play; I can just about remember one scene, and even then, sometimes we improvise on set and change the words. I don't know how you do it."

Bella was surprised by Edward's generous compliment. She put her fork down and took a drink of her coffee, before explaining how she memorized a play.

"Every actor has their own way of learning lines, but it's not too difficult, Edward. I tell people that learning Shakespeare is like learning the words of a song. Once you've got the melody in your head, you never forget the lines."

"What do you mean?"

"Okay. Let's think of a song you haven't heard for a long time. Ummm, let me think; Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. When was the last time you heard that song, all the way through?"

"When I watched Wayne's World on cable, probably about five years ago."

"Right, I'll start you off, but you have to say the words, not sing them; 'Is this the real life, is this just fantasy'"

Edward joined in; "caught in a landslide, no escape from reality. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see. I'm just a poor boy ..."

Bella put her hand up to stop him. "So you haven't heard those words in five years, yet you could probably recite the whole song, word for word. Why is that do you think?"

"Because the words were originally set to music?"

"Exactly, so when I'm learning the lines, I sort of invent tunes in my head to go with the prose, and as long as I remember the tune, I can remember the words. In the end you don't need the tune, because the words are so ingrained in your memory that it's as natural to speak them as speaking to you now. I do occasionally forget them though, but that's usually if another actor forgets his or her line, and that completely throws me."

"What happens then; do the Shakespeare purists boo you?"

"No! The majority of the audience don't know the play word for word, and even those who do are usually gracious if we cock it up!"

Bella giggled, and Edward was enjoying seeing Bella so relaxed. He still couldn't imagine learning parts as complicated as the ones he'd witnessed that morning, and was equally in awe of Bella's skill as an actress as her amazing memory.

"Anyway, how come you were in the theater with Alice this morning?" Bella asked, as she was sipping her coffee.

Edward had a mouthful of food so he swallowed quickly.

"I spoke to Alice on the phone this morning, and she said she was on her way over to see the rehearsal, so I met her there."

"Did she call you?"

"No, I called her. Look, Bella, I know you're going to make fun of me for what I'm about to say, but I've been having some weird dreams lately, and I thought she might have cast a spell on me."

Bella choked on her coffee, and had to mop up what had leaked from her mouth with her napkin.

"I'm sorry; are you saying you now believe in witchcraft, voodoo and ju ju you rubbished only a few days ago?"

"No, I don't, but I'm getting desperate, Bella. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since the night of The Graham Norton's Show. I didn't dream at all that night because of a severe pain in my leg, and I was thinking of you as well. Since then, every night and even during the day, I've been having really unusual dreams!"

Bella ignored the dig about his leg.

"So what are you dreaming about, or are you too embarrassed to tell me?"

"They're not embarrassing dreams, well, I suppose some are; they're just very vivid and intense, and sometimes disturbing, especially the first one; I was physically sick after that."

"Wow, that is bad. So what did Alice say; has she cast a spell on you?"

"She says not."

"Do you believe her?"

"Yes of course I do; I don't think she would lie to me, but it's too much of a coincidence, as it all started after I met her."

"And, after you met me, as well! Mind you, I suppose we 'met' on the plane, but I don't think we can count that."

"No, I'm sorry again for being an ass."

Bella finished her last mouthful of eggs and wiped her face with her napkin. Edward had already finished, as he had scarfed his down very quickly.

"Do you dream about me, Edward?"

"No; but I go to bed every night hoping to dream about you. You are the last person in my thoughts when I close my eyes."

Bella blushed. "What would you like your dreams of me to be about?"

Edward picked up his napkin and rolled it around in his hands while he thought about his answer. He could either make up a fake scenario, and hide his true feelings, or be absolutely truthful to Bella. He decided to go with the truth.

"Every night, before I go to sleep, I imagine that I'm making love to you. There are no violins playing in the background, or rose petals and candlelight. It's just you and me, together, on a bed with white sheets, and your beautiful hair is spread out over the pillow. You're wearing nothing but a smile. I'm kissing you on your lips, your face and your neck, while I'm making love to you, and you are calling my name softly, while your fingers slide over my back and into my hair.

"I never, ever, reach the end of our love-making, as I fall asleep, and have grotesque nightmares, but that's what I would _like_ to dream about. Also, I fantasize about you during the day, Bella; imagining what you're doing, who you're talking to, and wondering whether there's another man in your life you're having dreams and fantasies about, and then I feel ridiculously jealous of a person who may or may not exist."

Bella was red as a beetroot by now, and was at a loss for words. She had been having similar dreams and fantasies about Edward, but had been trying unsuccessfully to stifle them, as she was determined to concentrate on her work, but it was proving more and more difficult every day. Now she was sitting opposite the object of her fantasies, and she was finding it extremely difficult to resist the temptation to throw herself at him, especially after what he had just declared to her.

Edward sat there expectantly, waiting for her reaction to his soul-bearing statement. He heard every tick of the large railway clock that was hanging on the back wall of the cafe, and each tick seemed like an eternity to him. He had never made any declaration of affection to a girl before, even in the throes of passion, or as a ruse to get a girl into bed. Come to think of it, he had never had any feelings at all about any of his previous lovers, as none had ever obtained 'girlfriend' status. He suddenly felt shallow and despicable because of his past behavior, and was fully expecting Bella to kick him to the curb, which is what he deserved. After an inordinate amount of time, which was actually only about ten seconds, Bella responded.

"There is no other man in my life, Edward; there hasn't been for a long time. I was engaged once, but that fell apart when he wanted me to curtail my own career to be with him all the time. There was no give and take; it was his way or no way, so I chose no way, and I haven't regretted it for a minute.

"You're the first man since then who I've considered having a relationship with, because you turn me on, pure and simple. I have dreams and fantasies about you too, and it is starting to affect my work. I'm distracted to a point where I've forgotten my lines in rehearsals for the first time in my life. I'm not getting enough sleep, and worst of all, I'm questioning where my life is heading, and whether I should be putting my career before my personal happiness.

"I'm not lying awake imagining wedding bells, so don't panic, Edward, but you've turned my world upside down, and I don't know what to do about it."

Edward reached over the table and took her hands in his, and held them as their eyes met.

"What do you want me to do, Bella? I'm waiting on your word. You know I want you, I told you that in the restaurant; have you changed your mind?"

Bella held his gaze as he reiterated his intentions, then she looked down to where Edward was gripping her hands as though she was a life raft.

"No. Oh God, I don't know, Edward. What's the point of us starting anything up now? My opening night is on Wednesday, and you fly back to the States that day, don't you?"

"Fuck that; I can delay going back for a few days. I've got no commitments for a week."

Bella shook her head and carried on concentrating on their clasped hands; she didn't trust herself to look into his eyes that were begging her to reconsider.

"No, please don't tempt me; you'll be too much of a distraction. Until I've got the first few weeks under my belt, I can't concentrate on anything else but the play. I don't want to let anyone down."

Edward sighed in resignation and he could feel Bella's grasp relax.

"Alright, Bella, I'll back off for now, but Wednesday is still two days away. I've got to get back to The Savoy by three to do an interview for French TV, but can we do something this evening? I want to get to know you better?"

"I suppose so; I haven't got anything definite planned."

"Can I take you out for dinner, or go and see a show - anything?"

Bella thought for a brief second. "Just dinner, Edward; I need to catch up on my sleep, so I can't stay out late, or stay out, if that's what you're thinking!"

Bella couldn't help smirking slightly, and Edward spotted the corner of her mouth turning up and knew what she was suggesting.

"It was what I was thinking, Bella. I'm not going to lie to you, as I'm a guy, and I want you. But I respect your wishes, and I promise it'll be first base only, if that's what you want."

"Fine, in that case do you want to come to my hotel rather than book a restaurant? We can have a private dinner in my suite at about seven thirty."

Edward smiled and pulled her hands up to his mouth and kissed them.

"Sounds great, I'll be there, and on my best behavior."

Edward asked for the check and insisted on paying, and chuckled when he saw that the cost of two breakfasts and coffee was less than what he would pay for a shot of whiskey in the places he usually frequented.

It was nearly half past two, and he had to be back by three, so he needed to go straight back to the hotel. As he stood up to leave, he looked out through the front window of the cafe and saw a man on the opposite pavement, holding a long range camera that was pointing straight at their table. He immediately sat down and leaned over to Bella who was picking her bag off the floor.

"I thought you said this place was private; there's paparazzi outside?"

Bella's eyes followed his line of vision, and she could see what Edward was looking at.

"That's unusual," she said, and beckoned Carlo to come over.

"Is there any other way out of here?" she asked, and indicated with her head movements that there was someone outside.

"Yes, _Bellissima;_ you can leave by the fire exit. Just wait a few minutes and I'll get Carlo Junior to sort this guy out first; he'll make sure this parasite doesn't follow you."

Edward grinned at Bella as Carlo disappeared into the kitchen, and shortly afterwards, young Carlo appeared without his chef's apron, and headed out of the cafe and across the road to confront the photographer, giving them time to make their escape.

Edward grabbed Bella's hand as they sped down the short corridor that led to the restrooms, then out through the fire exit at the back. But before they left the confines of the small fenced yard behind the cafe, Edward pulled Bella towards him and crashed his lips on hers. Bella moaned, as Edward's mouth devoured hers in a passionate open-mouthed kiss. His tongue slipped effortlessly between her lips and caressed hers, as her moans turned to whimpers.

Bella's body went limp in his arms as he embraced her, and he lifted her onto her tip toes, then spun her around and pinned her against the fire exit door, which had closed automatically behind them. Their kisses became more frantic as he crushed his body into hers, and Bella involuntarily wrapped her legs around his hips, opening herself up to him as they writhed and moaned together.

One of his hands was now gripping the back of her head and the other had moved to her hip and he was pulling her towards him. His arousal was obvious to Bella, even through the thick material of her jeans, but she was just as turned on as Edward, as she could sense the dampness building up between her legs where his erection was rubbing her.

His hand left her hip and slid up inside her t-shirt to her breast, and he squeezed it gently, running his thumb over her hard nipple that was poking through the soft material of her bra. He felt Bella tense up and he quickly withdrew his hand and settled it back on her hip again.

Edward pulled away from the deep kiss. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I promised first base only."

Bella drew a long breath as she buried her fingers in his hair. He was sweating, but so was she, and reality suddenly hit home. They were making out in full view of anybody in the neighboring buildings who happened to be looking out of their window.

"That's okay, Edward, but if you're going to do that again, I think being somewhere a bit more private might be advisory."

Edward chuckled and looked around him. They were surrounded by office buildings, but most of the windows had blinds, and he hoped they hadn't been spotted. Even if they had, he was sure they wouldn't be recognized.

Edward held Bella close to him in a tight embrace.

"What have you done to me, Bella? I don't know which way is up any more; I'm like a coiled spring waiting to explode, and I don't know how much longer I can hold out."

Bella could feel Edward's body shaking slightly under her fingertips, so she knew he wasn't exaggerating. Her own emotions were in turmoil; she wanted him so badly, but couldn't see a way of fitting a relationship into her life at the moment.

She had never been kissed like that before. Edward's kisses were feral, and she had felt totally helpless when he was devouring her, but also unbelievably turned-on, and she knew that if they had been somewhere more private she couldn't have stopped herself. She was now re-considering whether it was a good idea for him to come to her hotel this evening, even though he had promised not to pass first base.

She needed time to think, so she kissed him chastely on his cheek.

"Edward, you must go or you'll be late for your interview. We'll talk about this tonight over dinner."

Edward nodded his head in agreement and loosened his grip on her, and Bella's feet were back on solid ground again. They straightened their clothing and made their way out through the gate onto the pavement, which was deserted, keeping their heads down in case someone was watching them from above.

They decided to split up, so Edward kissed Bella on her forehead and sprinted off towards the main road where he hailed a cab. Bella watched him as he climbed in and he turned to give her a wave and then blew her a kiss. She pretended to catch it in the air, and she could see him laughing as he closed the cab door. Within seconds he had disappeared from view.

Bella reached into her bag and rummaged around until she found her cell phone. She flicked it open and saw that she had several unread messages from an anonymous number, but she ignored them all and scrolled down until she found the number she wanted and hit the call button.

After several rings the call was answered.

"Bella, I can't talk now – I'm surrounded by hundreds of people."

"I'm sorry – but I need to see you before tonight."

"Alright, but give me an hour or so and I'll meet you at the apartment. Are you okay?"

"Yes, No, I don't know, but thanks; I'd really appreciate it."

Bella put her phone back in her bag and slowly walked towards where Edward picked up his cab and waited by the side of the road. Within half a minute she flagged another down, and as she settled onto the comfortable seat, she said under her breath

"Thank God for being around, Alice; I just hope you can do to me what you did to Edward, or I'm not going to survive!"

* * *

**A/N**

**What! Has Alice lied to Edward - hmmm! Do you think Bella will risk having Edward in her hotel room (who the hell would say no)? Hit that next button!**

**Joan x**


	12. Chapter 12

**********__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER TWELVE – Sauvingnon Blanc, Stalkers and the Spanish Inquisition**

* * *

Edward arrived back at The Savoy only a couple of minutes late. The live-link to the Paris studio had been set up for half past three, so he had about ten minutes to clean up and get changed before meeting the film crew. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he could see the effect Bella's fingers had on his hair, making him look as though he had just fallen out of bed. But he couldn't care; he knew that look drove his female fans wild, and in the past he had milked that look at every opportunity. Recently though, he had been genuinely trying to shake off that image by keeping his hair under control, as his film roles were now aimed at a more mature audience. Now, he thought, 'what the hell'; he wasn't going to brush away the memory of experiencing Bella running her fingers through his hair while he kissed her, just for a fifteen minute interview.

Jasper eyed him suspiciously, guessing he had spent the morning in someone's bed, as he had been very evasive when he called earlier. Plus, he had that 'just-fucked' look on his face Jasper recognized so well. He hadn't spoken to Alice today, as he knew she had a busy day, so was completely unaware Edward had spent the morning with her. As Edward was buttoning up his shirt he asked him straight out.

"You look a bit more relaxed today; have you had some sexual gratification this morning?"

Edward gave him a hard stare then a slow smirk appeared on his face.

"I had a very _satisfying_ morning, if that's what you want to know, Jasper," he replied.

Edward pulled his jacket on without elaborating further, and walked out to the corridor. A member of the French TV crew was outside the door waiting to escort them to where they had set up an impromptu studio on the floor below. Jasper followed Edward down the stairs and into a spacious and very elegant meeting room, that was now full of lights and cameras, plus floor to ceiling posters from the movie.

Jasper was still smirking like a silly schoolboy, when the director crossed the room and introduced himself. After the director explained to them how the interview was going to be conducted, Edward was led over to a chair that was directly in front of a flat-screen TV monitor, where he could see the program's host at his desk in Paris, preparing for the interview.

The sound engineer came over and fitted Edward with an earpiece, that would carry the voice of the interpreter translating the questions from French to English. Edward sat patiently as the engineer carried out a number of audio tests with his counterpart in France, before giving the French studio and Edward the thumbs up.

While Edward was waiting for the cue to start the interview, Jasper leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Who was the lucky lady then?"

Edward winked at Jasper and whispered into his ear,

"Alice!"

* * *

Bella paced up and down the pavement outside Alice's apartment in Kensington. She had been waiting there for half an hour at least, and was actually desperate for the bathroom. She had considered ringing someone else's doorbell, but guessed she would pick the one door in the block that had an axe-murderer behind it, so had been frantically looking around for a convenient bush to dive behind. But there was no such thing in this part of London, where anything green was either in a tasteful window box, or an ornamental tub by an elegant front door.

Just as she was resigning herself to being chopped into pieces by the Kensington Ripper, while sitting on his toilet, a smart BMW drew up. Alice got out of the passenger seat and waved goodbye to the driver, who did a U turn in the road and sped off.

"Hi Bella," Alice chirped, and went to give her a kiss.

"Never mind about that; open the fucking door, I need to piss!"

Alice fortunately had her keys in her hand, and as soon as she had opened both doors, Bella raced through the ground floor apartment, undoing her jeans as she was running. A few seconds later, Alice heard her cry "Aaaaahhh" quite clearly, as she hadn't bother to shut the bathroom door.

Alice went in the kitchen and pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge. She had poured two large glasses of _Sauvignon Blanc,_ before Bella appeared in the kitchen, looking slightly red-faced.

"That was close," she said, and giggled. "I haven't wet myself in years."

"I'm pleased to hear it," Alice replied, and handed her a glass.

They clinked and said "cheers," then Bella followed Alice into her comfortable, but slightly OTT, living room, which resembled a shop window from Biba in the 1970's.

It was furnished in deep reds and blues, with heavy swagged drapes at the windows. Tiffany lamps and Art Deco ornaments were dotted around the room, and huge floor vases, full of peacock feathers, stood either side of an antique upright piano. A beautiful silver mirror, in the shape of a Pentangle, hung over the fireplace, but that was the only indication that this was the home of a witch, other than a small group of crystals, of varying shapes and sizes, that were dangling from threads across the windows, causing sparkles of sunlight to burst into the room and dance across the walls.

Bella made herself comfortable in a 1930's style, brocade armchair, as Alice stretched herself out on a red velvet sofa covered in cushions. Bella looked around the room, thinking that some of Alice's possessions would look good as props on stage for her production, as they were from the right era.

"So, Bella?" Alice said, after she had sipped her wine and taken a moment to relish the effect the fruity liquid had as it traveled straight to her elbows. "What is so urgent that I needed to drop everything and come to your rescue?"

Bella stared into the golden liquid that was swirling around in her glass, then in a quiet voice said, "Edward."

"Oh!" Alice responded. "Tell me what has happened, I need to know every detail."

So Bella related the conversation they had in Carlo's cafe, and the passionate encounter in the yard, surrounded by dumpsters and cardboard boxes. Bella then admitted she had invited Edward over for dinner in the evening.

"You've fallen for him hard, haven't you, Bella?"

Bella nodded her head.

"Are you in love with him?"

"No, of course I'm not; I hardly know him. Okay, I know he likes Shakespeare now, which is a plus in his favor, but we are still worlds apart in every other way."

"So, what's the attraction; apart from Edward being exceedingly handsome and incredibly rich?"

Bella laughed for a second and then became serious.

"I don't know, Alice. It's like having a crush when you're a teenager. You're hopelessly in love with a guy who's on a poster on your bedroom wall, but you know it's not real love, not genuine, true love of the real person behind the face. It's just superficial, as you don't know the _real_ person. But I do feel something for him; I can't stop thinking about him, and I'm insanely attracted to him. I want him to touch me, to kiss me, to..."

Alice was watching her intently. Bella was gripping her glass so hard with both hands, that Alice thought it might break if she put more pressure on it.

"Bella, relax; don't get yourself in a state. You, and thousands of other women, are infatuated with Edward Cullen; it's just that you are in the enviable position of Edward Cullen being infatuated with you. Just enjoy it; let him touch you, let him kiss you, let him f..."

"Don't say it Alice, I'm not going there."

"So, why did you invite him to your room Bella, tell me that? You know that you won't be able to resist him. He practically dry-humped you in broad daylight, for heaven's sake. What the hell do you think is going to happen when he kisses you goodnight, and there's a king-size bed twenty feet away?"

"I don't know, Alice, that's why I've come to you for help. Can you do to me what you did to Edward, but just to help me resist him?"

"No, Bella, that's not fair on Edward. Either you see him tonight, and be completely straight with him to start with, and remind him its first base only, if that's what you _really_ want, or cancel the date altogether if you don't trust yourself not to sleep with him."

Alice left Bella pondering what she had just said, and went into the kitchen to get the wine bottle out of the fridge. This was going to be a three-drinks conversation at least, so she grabbed some cheesy snacks out of the cupboard and poured them into a bowl. When she got back to the living room, Bella had finished her drink, and was curled up in a tight ball in the chair, with her forehead pressed on her knees.

As Alice was replenishing her glass, she noticed Bella's phone was flashing.

"You've got a message," she said.

Bella's looked up and flipped her phone open. Her eyes widened as she read the words on the screen, then her hand came up to her mouth."

"What's happened?" Alice asked.

"It's David; he's coming to London."

"Who's David?"

Bella grabbed her topped up glass and chugged a mouthful back before replying.

"He's my ex-fiancé; he says he's got tickets for the show and wants to see me beforehand."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, I don't want to see him, ever again. He's still under the illusion that we're only temporarily un-engaged and we're going to get back together, then I'll give up my silly career and be his little woman at home. Ha! Not fucking likely!"

"So, are you going to reply to the message?"

"No. Actually, I'm furious he's got hold of my British number. I changed my American number not long after we split, because he wouldn't give up asking me to come back."

"Were you in love with him?" Alice asked.

"No, I realize that now. He was very charismatic and swept me off my feet, but I was only twenty-two when I met him and relatively inexperienced, and he was a man-of-the-world; ten years older than me. I couldn't help myself. My parents adored him; they thought he was just right for me."

Bella stopped talking, and Alice noticed her face turn as black as thunder as realization hit home.

"My fucking mother; I bet she's behind this. That's how he's got my number. I'll kill her!"

"Bella, you don't mean that?"

"Huh, you don't know her; she can be as sweet as pie to your face, but all the while she's plotting to get her own way with everything. Why do you think I've been touring for the past seven years? Right, two can play at that game."

Bella flipped her phone open and found David's message, and punched in the reply, 'Who is this?'

Within thirty seconds a response came back, 'It's David Baxter, Bella. Don't play games. Why haven't you answered my other texts?"

Alice reached over and took the phone from Bella's hand and hit the green call icon. David answered on the second ring. Alice put the phone on loudspeaker and said, "Hello".

"Darling, it's me. I'm coming to London to see you. How are you, baby?"

Alice pretended to be sick, and Bella had to cover her mouth with both hands to stop David hearing her screaming with laughter.

Alice put on her most plumy English accent to respond.

"David? You don't sound like any David I know. Are you sure you have the right number, young man?"

"Who the hell is this?"

"My name is not Bella; it is Harriet Fortesque-Smythe. I think you have the wrong number. Now please stop bothering me, or I'll have to call a policeman."

Alice turned the phone off and they both fell about laughing. Bella wiped her eyes, then stood up and went over to the sofa and gave Alice a hug.

"Thanks for that; I really appreciate it."

"A pleasure. I hope he's taken the hint."

Bella threw herself back in her chair and took another large mouthful of wine.

"We still haven't decided what to do about Edward, Alice. What do you think?"

"I think...it's none of my business, and you shouldn't be taking any advice from me, or anyone. You have to do what you feel is right. Remember, Edward is a hot-blooded guy, and will only take so much rejection, especially with an ego the size of his."

Bella put her head in her hands and let out a strangled cry.

"Why is life so bloody complicated, Alice?"

Alice topped her glass up again and replied, "Why do you think wine was invented, my dear?"

* * *

Edward cleared his throat as the French director's greeting from the Paris television studio was being translated into his earpiece. The interview was not being broadcast live, so he knew that if he needed any of the questions repeating, he would be able to stop the recording until he understood what was being asked. He could see the interviewer, Henri Bertram, having his make-up touched up, then waving the girl off as he was handed some pieces of paper. Edward noticed Henri's eyebrows lifting in surprise as he perused what was in front of him, and a slow smile spread across his face.

Jasper had been shuffled out of the way, just after Edward told him he'd spent the morning with Alice. He could see Jasper pacing up and down by the window, looking very agitated. He had been calling numbers on his on his cell phone, but no-one had responded, so Edward guessed he couldn't get through to Alice, probably because she was still at the book-signing. He wouldn't let Jasper suffer for much longer, but he was enjoying getting a bit of pay-back for Jasper thinking he had a right to know about his sex life.

He suddenly realized he had missed the first question from Henri completely, so he spoke into the microphone on his lapel and asked for it to be repeated.

"How are you enjoying being in London, Edward? Henri asked through the interpreter."

Henri could speak English fluently, but this interview was for French audiences, so he stuck to his own language.

"Very much, Henri, but I'm also very sorry that I didn't make it over to Paris."

Very diplomatic answer Edward thought.

"Were you angry with the air traffic controllers for upsetting your plans?"

Edward was a bit surprised with this question, but answered it without hesitation.

"I don't know what the strike is about, Henri, so I wouldn't want to comment on that. I just hope that the disruption is for something worthwhile, and I hope the dispute is resolved soon to everyone's satisfaction."

Another diplomatic winner there – keeps both sides happy he thought.

"As usual, your fans were out in force at both premieres; do you sometimes wish your fans could be a bit less vocal and not so excitable?"

Edward was getting agitated now. He could tell this interviewer was trying to get him to say something controversial by asking leading questions, but he wasn't falling for his game, so he pretended to laugh at the remark.

"No, not at all. I love meeting my fans, and I'm flattered they are still following my career with such enthusiasm. I just hope they stick around for many years to come."

Edward could imagine his nose getting longer and longer like Pinocchio's; he was lying through his teeth, but smiling sweetly at the same time.

"Your movie is doing very well on both sides of the Atlantic; are you comfortable sticking with the action-movie genre?"

Edward relaxed; he was back on familiar ground and expected the usual generic questions to be asked about the movie now. He'd answered them so many times he was sure he could reply to them in his sleep.

"I admit, I do enjoy making action movies, but my next film will be an historical drama, based in England. I'll definitely be out of my comfort zone for once."

"Have you thought of doing Shakespeare?"

"No, Shakespeare is not in my plans for the future. I'll leave his plays to the experts."

"Like Isabella Swan, for instance?"

Edward's shoulders immediately tensed up. He sensed a trap here and knew he had to be careful what to say next.

"Yes, like Isabella. I had the pleasure of meeting her on The Graham Norton Show last week, as you probably know."

"And in a restaurant two days later."

Edward's hackles started to rise.

"Yes, that was a pleasant coincidence. Isabella is performing at The National Theater from Wednesday onwards. I would have liked to have seen her production, but I'm flying back to the States then."

"But you watched her rehearse this morning, and then you went for breakfast together afterwards. Are you in a relationship with Isabella Swan, Edward?"

Edward moved forward in his seat and pointed his finger at Henri, as though he was sitting three feet away from him in the hotel room, not two hundred miles away in a studio, just outside Paris.

"I'm not going to respond to that question, because it's none of your damned business. What is this; the fucking Spanish Inquisition? I thought I'd been invited on your program to talk about the movie, but it seems you've been stalking me for the last four days. Now you think you have a right to know about my private life. Either we talk about the movie, or you can stick this interview up your fucking ass."

Henri was unmoved by Edward's outburst, but sat back in his chair with a smug smile on his face, thinking he'd just struck journalism gold. Jasper was arguing vociferously with the London director and other members of the crew, so Edward stood up and pulled the earpiece away from his ear and microphone off his jacket, and slung them on the seat.

"That's it – I'm walking" Edward said, and headed for the exit.

The director rushed towards the door and stood in his path, blocking his way.

"You're contractually obliged to do this interview, Edward; so I suggest you sit back down and finish it."

Edward was now eye to eye with the director and gave him his most venomous stare. He was fuming, and the director was in the right place, at the right time, for Edward to expel some of the frustration that he had been accumulating over the last few days. Edward gave it to him with both barrels.

"The name is Mr. Cullen to you; only my friends call me Edward."

The director recoiled away from him, but Edward hadn't finished.

"If you think you can force me to take part in this interrogation by quoting contracts to me, I suggest you take the trouble to read _'said contract',_ and you will see that I'm contractually obliged to talk about the movie only. I _never, ever,_ agree to talk about my private life; so check your fucking facts before you threaten me, _Monsieur Director._ When you've done that, I suggest you speak to that smug jerk, Monsieur Bertram, and tell him to stick to '_the contract_', as my private life is not up for discussion, in any shape or form. Then, and only then, I'll sit back down and do the interview. But if he asks me about anything other than the movie, I'm out of here, and I'll see you in court, and I'll fucking win; do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mr. Cullen; I'll sort it. Leave it with me."

"And you can delete any references to my fans, Isabella Swan and Air Traffic Controllers from your tapes as well, or I'll sue your fucking asses."

"Yes, Mr. Cullen."

The director shuffled away and started transferring his wrath onto Henri and other members of the crew.

Jasper approached Edward cautiously, as he could tell how furious he was. He handed Edward a bottle of chilled water and watched him chug most of it down, then wipe his chin with the back of his hand.

"Fucking assholes," Edward muttered. "They must have been following me for days, just to get some juicy gossip for this interview. Do you think they've got photographs?"

"More than likely; we can't stop those appearing in newspapers and magazines or the internet though. You two haven't done anything compromising, have you?"

"No," Edward responded, but then he thought back to their tryst behind the cafe this morning, and prayed they hadn't been spotted.

"I'll have to warn Bella; I hope she's not too pissed about this."

"It's the price of fame, Edward; you can't avoid it sometimes. Anyway, I'm guessing you went to watch Bella this morning with Alice. I wanted to kick you in the balls all through the interview, until Henri spilled the beans."

Edward smirked and apologized to Jasper.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't lie. You gave me Alice's number, so you should have guessed I was with her. Anyway, I had a quick chat with her about my dreams, and she said she hadn't cast a spell on me, and I believe her."

"I would hope so."

The director called them over and assured Edward that Henri had been ordered to stick to questions about the movie, and would only go off-subject if Edward prompted it. They would start the interview from scratch, and the Director assured him that the original tapes would be wiped.

Edward moved back to his seat opposite the screen and fixed the earpiece in his ear. Even though there wasn't any sound coming through from Paris, he could tell Henri was having a heated argument with the director in the Paris studio. His hands were gesticulating like crazy, and you didn't have to be able to lip read to know that he wasn't happy. Edward watched the showdown with smug amusement, as he could tell that Henri was having his _derriere_ kicked.

The sound in his earpiece crackled into life, and he just caught the end of what Henri was shouting to his director, and he knew enough French to know what 'merde' meant.

Edward spoke first. "Bonjour _Monsieur Bertram_!" and waved at him with a big grin on his face.

"Bonjour, _Monsieur_ Cullen," Henri spluttered through gritted teeth. "Are you ready to start?"

"Ready when you are Henri, and I hope we're going to behave like adults during this conversation. I'm prepared to forget what happened and give you a great interview, but my private life is just that – private. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Edward – okay, let's do this."

The director signaled for cameras to start recording, and Henri started the interview again. This time he stuck rigidly to the script. Edward dropped in some anecdotes about the movie that hadn't yet been published anywhere else, which was a small scoop for Henri, and the interview ended on a pleasant note. The director yelled cut, and the cameras stopped filming, but the link remained open.

"Henri, can you still hear me?" Edward asked.

"Yes, I can hear you."

"From what you said before, I'm suspecting you have photos of Isabella and me together. I'm not asking you to confirm or deny it, but I'm telling you now, off the record, that we only met last Wednesday on the flight over from New York; we did a talk show together; we met by chance in a restaurant, and then I watched her rehearsal this morning, because I knew I wouldn't get the chance to see a proper performance. I'm going back to the States in two days time, and I doubt whether I'll ever see her again socially.

"You can make up whatever story you want, Henri, but I'll be in America and she'll be here in England for the next three months, so there won't be any story to follow in two days time. All I'm asking is for you to consider that Isabella is a young, talented, actress, who is just about to take a huge step in her career by appearing on the London stage. If her face is plastered all over the tabloids in the next few days, it will take away her credibility. You can do whatever you like to me, I'm used to it, but don't do it to her."

Henri remained silent for a few moments while he took in what Edward had just said. The photos were in front of him on the desk, and he wasn't the only person who had seen them. Alright, it was impossible to tell it was Edward and Isabella, as the photos were taken from above, but the French photographers' plan had worked, in that they had planted a photographer at the front of the cafe, guessing they would escape out the back, and the sexy shots they got of Edward and Isabella kissing passionately, would be worth a fortune, if it could be proved it was them.

"What are you thinking about, Henri?" Edward asked.

"I'm thinking that the ship has already sailed, Edward, and I haven't got the power to stop it. The photographers who followed you are freelance, and they will be selling these pictures to the highest bidder as we speak. I'm sorry, but that's the name of the game. I can assure you though, they came to us with the pictures. We did not sponsor this, it's something we never do."

"Are you able to tell me what's in the photographs."

"There are pictures of Isabella leaving a restaurant and you following her out. Then there's some of the two of you leaving the theater from the rear exit this morning. There are some poor quality shots of the two of you in Carlo's cafe, but I can't tell if it's you or not because of the net curtains. But it's the ones of the two of you behind Carlo's cafe that would be worth anything. I had a look at them just before we started filming, and they haven't got a clear shot of your faces.

"I'm guessing it's because they have a time-line of pictures of you leaving the theater, inside the cafe, and then having a make-out session outside, that they think they've struck gold. If editors believe their version of events, then the pictures will hit the newsstands tomorrow, and it'll be up to you and Isabella to deny it was you. Sorry."

"Were you going to 'out us' in your interview, Henri?"

"I wouldn't put it like that. If you and Isabella Swan were dating, it would be big news in the entertainment world. I'm a journalist, so you can't blame me for trying. I'm not into ruining careers though, so I hope Isabella's opening night will not be affected by this."

Edward wasn't completely satisfied with Henri's response, but as Jasper said, this was the price of fame.

"I'll have to take your word on that, Henri."

"Anyway, Edward, off the record; are you dating Isabella?"

"No comment, Henri ."

"Okay! I want an invite to the wedding though."

"Very funny! Au revoir, Henri."

Edward pulled the earpiece out and noticed that Jasper had been sitting next to him during their exchange. Jasper had only heard one side of the conversation and had tried to guess Henri's responses, but he was still in the dark. He could tell that Edward was very concerned about what he had just learned from Henri, so he followed him back to his suite so they could start discussing damage-limitation exercises.

Edward walked over to the sofa and slung himself on it.

"I think I've just dropped Bella in the shit, Jasper. She's not going to forgive me if these photographs overshadow her opening night."

Jasper closed the door behind him and settled himself in a comfy armchair opposite Edward.

"Okay, Edward. This is no time for bullshitting. This is what you employ me for and I'm ready for the full story. Tell me what happened today, because I need to know what's going to be headline news tomorrow."

Edward drew a deep breath and looked Jasper in the eyes.

"I kissed Bella, behind the cafe, and at the time I couldn't give a fuck if the whole world was watching us. But now, if these assholes have their way, the whole world and his wife will know, and Bella will probably never want to speak to me again."

* * *

**A/N: Ooops! Bella's going to be upset if these photographs overshadow her opening night. How do you think she's going to react? She's already hitting the bottle over at Alice's, trying to decide whether she can risk being in Edward's company with a lovely, comfy bed in the next room. Drinking alcohol is not going to help her resist him! I mean, girls, what would you do? ****Well, you'll find out what Bella does very soon!**

**Joan x**


	13. Chapter 13

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN – Controversy, Cabbies and Car Chases**

* * *

"Edward, you're going to have to tell me what's going on and what I need to know. I'm your agent, and if anything controversial is going to appear in tomorrow's newspapers that needs a response from me, then you've got to give me some more information."

Edward was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands. He didn't care about himself this time, but he knew Bella would be devastated as she took her career very seriously. Pictures, like the ones Edward imagined were in the hands of these freelance photographers, were 'par for the course' where TV or movie actors were concerned. But stage actors were a different breed, and scandal was looked down upon as it trivialized the profession. The only avenue open to him, he thought, was to deny it was them behind the cafe. He was confident Carlo and other members of his staff wouldn't talk to the press.

If, as Henri said, their faces weren't visible, they could nip this in the bud before it started. He would have to leave that to Jasper to sort out, as he had contacts in the media on both sides of the Atlantic, but he reluctantly accepted he would have to tell Jasper what happened earlier today.

Edward cleared his throat. He hated sharing details about his private life with anyone, even Jasper, but after taking a deep breath, he started his explanation.

"I met Alice at The National Theater this morning and we watched Bella's rehearsal together. Alice left during Act 3 to go to a book signing, and I stayed until the end. Bella and I went for something to eat at Carlo's cafe, and there was a photographer outside. Carlo suggested we leave via the fire exit at the back, while his son distracted the photographer. I kissed Bella quite passionately when we were in the back yard, and apparently there was a photographer in one of the office buildings overlooking the rear exit, waiting for us to escape that way. He has photos of me kissing Bella, but Henri said you can't see our faces. I would guess they've only got pictures of the top of our heads. That's it; end of story."

"How passionately?"

"French kissing; tongues, that sort of thing."

And?

Edward cleared his throat again and looked flustered. "I had my hand up her T-shirt."

"And?"

"I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around me."

"And?"

"Her fingers were in my hair."

"And?"

"I was dry-humping her."

"And?"

"That's it; we were only kissing for about two minutes, well, three or four at the most. If you hadn't wanted me back by three, and if Bella was game, maybe we would have gone a bit further."

"In broad daylight?"

"At that particular moment, I couldn't have cared if every office worker in London had a good view of us. If Bella hadn't put the brakes on, I would have kept on going!"

Jasper stood up and got two bottles of water from the fridge behind the bar and handed one to Edward. He knew Edward's reputation wouldn't be damaged by these photos if they were published; in fact they might actually do him some good. Edward was very rarely seen in public with a girl, which was one of the reasons he was followed relentlessly, as magazines, tabloids and websites were always speculating on who he was dating. Some journalists even suspected he was gay, as he hadn't had a long-term girlfriend as far as they knew, and Edward would never confirm or deny anything about his sexuality.

Bella was a different matter though; added to that she was now Alice's BFF, and he didn't want to do anything to upset Alice. Jasper was thinking quickly; he had many friends and acquaintances in the media business, and now was the time he would either have to start calling in favors, or promise favors in return.

Because they weren't in Paris as planned, he had arranged to see Alice this evening, but the date would have to wait; he was sure Alice would understand when she knew the reason. Bella needed to be warned though, and Jasper was willing to speak to her at her hotel, but he knew that Edward would insist on going, even though he would probably be followed. If this story had already got out, he imagined the pavements outside The Savoy and Bella's hotel would be packed with paparazzi by now, which could be a problem.

He needed to get to work straight away, and to start calling his contacts on the phone, or message them on the internet, to find out whether these photos were already in circulation, and if so, decide on their plan of action.

Jasper made his decision.

"Okay, Edward, you're going to have to tell Bella what's going on. Do you know what she's doing this evening?"

"I'm supposed to be going to her hotel for dinner. I'd better call her and get this over and done with. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to earn my pay check and try and sort this mess out, so I'm going back to my suite. I need you to stay in contact with me at all times, so don't turn your phone off. If you leave the hotel, tell me where you're going."

Edward nodded in agreement and Jasper left the room. He picked his phone up to call Bella, then realized he didn't have her number, but he did have Alice's. He called her and she picked up on the third ring.

"Edwardddddd" she slurred. "Fancy you calling; we were just talking about you."

"Who's _'we'_ Alice; is Bella with you?"

"Yes, we've been talking about you, Edwardddddd."

"I know, you just said that! Can you put her on please; it's urgent."

Edward heard lots of shuffling about, and a few giggles, then he heard Bella saying 'hello' in a squeaky voice.

"Is that you Bella?"

"Yiss."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Yiss."

"Bella, I need to see you urgently, and this is not a joke. Are you at Alice's?"

"Yiss."

"Stay put, don't go out the door, I'll be with you soon, and please go and make yourself some strong black coffee, because we need to talk; something's happened."

"Okay, Edwardddddd – byeeeee."

Edward called down to the front desk and asked them to get him a cab, urgently. He called Jasper to tell him where he was going and got Alice's address, then quickly changed into more casual clothes, grabbed his wallet and phone, and headed out the door. When he got to the foyer, he could see the black cab waiting for him, so he sprinted towards the entrance. The valet was holding the door open for him and another valet was by the cab. He dived into the passenger section of the cab head first, and shouted the address to the driver. While Edward kept his head down, the cab pulled away, turning in the direction of Kensington as soon as it reached the main road.

Once they started moving quickly, quickly for London that is, Edward sat upright and looked out the back window. Behind them was a left-hand drive silver Audi, with French number plates, and he knew immediately that he was being followed. The last thing he wanted to do was lead these parasites to Alice's front door, but he didn't know London well enough to shake them off on his own. His only hope was this cab driver.

He leaned forward and tapped on the glass that separated the passenger section from the driver, to get his attention.

"What's up, mate?" the driver said in a broad South London accent.

"I'm being followed; any ideas how we can shake them off?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, unfortunately I am."

"Who the hell are you? MI6 or KGB?"

"Nothing so glamorous I'm afraid. I'm an actor, and the assholes behind me are paparazzi."

"Ha ha, that's bad luck. What's your name then; I might have heard of you?"

"Edward Cullen."

"Cor blimey! My teenage daughter's got pictures of you on her computer and all over her bedroom wall. She's going to be ecstatic when I tell her I've had you in my cab."

"Look, if you can shake these guys off, I'll invite your daughter to the set to watch me making a movie. You and her mother can come too."

"Deal, Edward; anyway this'll be a pleasure. I've been driving my cab for over twenty years and I've never been asked to lose someone, so you've just fulfilled one of my dreams. It'll be a doddle, because cabs can go places in London where private cars can't. Hold on tight though; we just might be turning corners on two wheels and a door handle very soon!"

The driver, who Edward could see from his licence was called Leon, suddenly turned sharp left and dived down a side street, then turned sharp right, flinging Edward from side to side on the slippery leather seats. Leon could see in his mirror that the Audi had followed suit, and soon both cars were travelling at breakneck speed down the narrow back streets of London. Leon was in his element, as he knew these roads like the back of his hand, and was totally expecting what was ahead of him, so he skidded the cab around another corner, straight into a line of heavy traffic.

Edward gasped, as he couldn't understand why Leon had taken this route when he had asked him to lose them.

"Don't panic, Edward," Leon shouted when he saw the look on Edward's face in his rear-view mirror. "Black cabs can use the designated bus lanes; private cars can't. Watch this."

He motored down the empty bus lane on the left of the line of traffic, leaving the Audi stranded in the queue. He looked in the rear view mirror, with a smug grin on his face, then looked back again a few seconds later, just to check they were still trapped. To his surprise, he watched the Audi turning onto the bus lane, and within seconds the car was gaining on them.

"The cheeky bastards!" Leon exclaimed. "They're going to get a massive fine for that."

"They don't care," Edward replied angrily. "What they earn from the photographs will more than cover their expenses. They probably think it's worth the risk."

"Right, we'll see about that. I've got another trick up my sleeve. When I say get your head down, get your head down; do you hear?"

"Yes, Sir," Edward replied.

Edward was actually quite enjoying himself. The car chase had taken his mind off all the shit he was going to have to deal with for the moment. He could hear Bruce Springsteen warbling away in his pocket, so someone was trying to get hold of him, but he was too focused on what was going on to respond.

Leon was beside himself with glee. "Can't wait to tell the wife and the nipper about this," he chortled. "They won't believe me!"

"Don't worry, Leon, I'll confirm your story when I meet them," Edward promised through gritted teeth, as he was being slung about on the back seat.

Leon turned the cab off the main road and they were racing around the back streets of London again. Edward was totally lost; he hadn't got a clue which part of London they were in by now, and the Audi was still close behind. He couldn't have jumped out the cab to make a run for it, even if he'd wanted to.

The cab tore down to the end of the narrow road they were on, and got stuck behind a queue of traffic. Leon glanced at his side mirror and saw one of the Audi doors opening, and a man with a camera getting out. Leon hit the button that centrally locked the doors and windows, and shouted to Edward to "hit the deck," which he did. Edward curled himself into a ball with his hands behind his head. The camera flashed through the windows, but the only pictures they got were ones of Edward's jacket and the top of his jeans, albeit with his Fruit of the Loom boxers on show!

The traffic started to move again and Edward scrambled back on the seat as Leon turned his car onto a wide thoroughfare that Edward recognized.

"Is this Whitehall?"

Leon confirmed it was, by pointing to The Cenotaph in the middle of the road and Downing Street on the right. The cab turned off onto another side road between two huge, white-stone, government buildings, and after a few more corners, Edward spotted the river wall ahead of them. Leon turned the cab onto the road that ran alongside the North Bank and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm heading for Waterloo Station, Edward. I can certainly lose them there, so get ready to hit the deck again when I shout."

They drove along the Victoria Embankment, as fast as the busy traffic would allow; crossing the river by Westminster Bridge onto the South Bank. Leon was heading for the one-way system that led to the station, and the trap that would certainly catch their pursuers. The Audi was still following, but now two cars and another black cab separated them, and Edward was watching the Audi trying unsuccessfully to overtake and get directly behind them again.

Leon suddenly accelerated and turned sharp left, then drove at speed towards the busy pick-up and drop-off zone outside Waterloo Station, where only taxis were allowed to enter and stop. Leon jumped the queue of waiting cabs and had screeched to a halt near the main entrance to the station, before the Audi appeared in Leon's rear-view mirror.

"Get down now," he shouted to Edward, who instantly complied.

Leon watched the Audi slowing down, then hanging back, as he moved the cab slowly through the long lines of taxis serving the busiest station in London.

Edward remained on the floor, but he was watching Leon's reactions intently. He was expecting Leon to say "run for it" and was wondering how he could pay him, as he couldn't see the meter. The line of cabs in front of them was slowly moving forward, while behind them there was a constant stream of black cabs pulling in and dropping off passengers, then queuing to pick up new ones. Within a few seconds of entering the station, their standard black cab was surrounded by countless identical cabs, and Leon knew that it would be impossible for the Audi occupants to single his cab out from the procession of cabs that were entering and leaving the station non-stop, and he grinned with satisfaction.

As they inched forward a bit more, Leon watched to see what the occupants of the Audi would do, as there was nowhere for them to go. He guessed they weren't concerned about traffic rules, and would have followed them in if they had been close behind, but that brief moment of loss of contact, then indecision, meant they had lost sight of which cab they were following.

Leon could hear taxi-horns blaring, as the Audi was blocking one lane of the entrance, and he could see his fellow cabbies shouting abuse at the Audi driver and passenger, who were leaning out of their windows, trying to spot Edward on the back seat of any of the queuing cabs.

After about thirty seconds, the Audi backed away from the taxi ranks, did a U-turn in the road, then drove back the wrong way along the one-way street they had just come down, narrowly avoiding another black cab who swerved out of the way just in time.

"Have we lost them?" Edward asked from the floor.

"I don't know. If they know this part of London well, they could be heading towards where the cabs exit the station. If I put my foot down as soon as we get away from here, I might be able to beat them back over the bridge.

Leon pulled out of the line, bypassing the queues of travelers waiting for a cab, and drove away from the station. This time, instead of driving back over Westminster Bridge, he stayed on the South Bank and turned in the opposite direction from central London, heading towards Albert Bridge, which would take them into Kensington. He kept glancing in the rear view mirror, but couldn't see any evidence that the silver Audi was still following them. After about five minutes 'on the deck', Edward sat back on the seat and brushed his clothes off, as it was a bit mucky on the cab floor.

Leon was chuckling to himself, as he had just driven past the 'real life' MI6 building that James Bond spectacularly leapt out of at the beginning of _The World is Not Enough_. The top of the same building was 'blown up' a few years later, in front of Judy Dench, in _Skyfall._ Leon was feeling a bit like a secret agent himself, even though he was driving a London taxi and not an Aston Martin. He hadn't had as much fun on the job for years, and couldn't wait to tell his fellow cabbies and his family.

Edward relaxed back into his seat and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Jasper had been trying to call him, plus another anonymous number was on the screen. He put the phone back in his jacket, deciding to call Jasper when he got to Alice's.

They drove over Albert Bridge, and soon they were in the Royal Borough of Kensington, stuck in heavy traffic, which was always dire, no matter what time of day you drove through this affluent part of town.

Leon shouted through the screen. "I know it's none of my business, Edward, but you must be used to being photographed all the time by paparazzi; what was the big deal this time?"

Edward guessed he could trust Leon not to sell his story to the press, but he still had to be careful what he said, just in case.

"These guys have been following me for days, and I'm sick of it, Leon. I don't want them to see where I'm going this evening, as I don't want my friends to be bothered with press intrusion in the future. There may be some alleged photos of me in the papers tomorrow, and I don't want to give these assholes any more evidence to back up their story; that's all."

"Seems reasonable," Leon responded. "I've had plenty of famous people in my cab, and they are always complaining about the ridiculous stories that are made up about them and they can't defend themselves. The press in this country is out of control."

"You can say that again, Leon; even though these particular bastards are French."

After about twenty minutes of sitting in barely moving traffic, Leon was able to pull off onto a side street, then turned a few more corners and pulled over in front of a block of old-fashioned, mansion apartments. Leon looked at the meter, which was reading sixty-two pounds, but Edward pulled two fifties out of his wallet and told Leon to keep the change.

"That's the best hundred pounds I've ever spent, Leon."

"That's the best hundred quid I've ever earned, Edward – cheers!"

Leon wrote his name, address and cell phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Edward, who put it in his wallet.

"Have you got your phone on you, Leon?" Edward asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Get out the cab for a second and I'll show you."

Leon got out the cab, leaving the engine running, and handed the phone to Edward, who turned the camera on. He stood next to Leon and held the camera at arm's length and took a _selfie,_ then did the same with his own phone.

"Send that picture to your daughter; she might believe you then when you tell her that I've promised to give you a day out at the set."

"You really meant that; I thought you were joking."

"Of course I meant it. It will be in about three month's time when I'm back in England. I'll get the production company to send you the details. I can't tell you how grateful I am, Leon, and if you've broken any traffic laws or got any speeding tickets, send me the bill. You can tell your friends what happened, but I would appreciate it though if you didn't tell anyone where you dropped me."

"Your secret's safe with me, Edward; take care."

They shook hands and Leon got back in his cab and drove off with a wave, just as the main entrance door to the apartments opened and Bella appeared on the step. He quickly crossed the pavement and kissed Bella on her coffee-flavored lips, as she closed the door to the block behind them.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

Edward's eyes rolled up to heaven as he put his arms around her and then he buried his face in her hair. If the reason he was there wasn't so serious, he would have laughed out loud.

* * *

When Edward had calmed down after the car chase, he loosened his grip on Bella and commenced kissing her all over her face. Bella moaned in ecstasy and pushed her hands underneath his hooded top and t-shirt until she found bare skin. Edward whimpered as she touched his naked back with her hands. Their kisses became more intense, until Alice's voice interrupted the make-out session that was taking place in the lobby.

"What are you two doing out there, as if I couldn't guess?" Alice shouted. "Come in here, Edward; I want to know what's going on as well."

Edward broke away and brushed some hair from Bella's face, then planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Come on, Bella, I need to talk to you. Before I say anything though, have you talked to Alice about what happened in Carlo's today?"

"Yes, I told her everything; I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't, because I've had to tell Jasper."

"What do you mean _'had_ to tell Jasper'. Has something bad happened?"

"You could say that; come on. I'm hoping some of Alice's witchcraft might help us out tonight!"

Edward closed the door to the apartment and they walked hand in hand into Alice's living room. Edward's eyes quickly surveyed the surroundings, and he wasn't surprised with the decor at all, as the room was an extension of Alice's personality and he felt surprisingly comfortable in this bizarre environment.

Alice had moved to the armchair, leaving the velvet sofa free for Edward and Bella. They sat closely together, so their bodies were touching at every point. Edward put his arm around Bella's shoulders, and she snuggled into him, as though it was the most natural thing to do. Edward kissed her on top of her head and stroked her hair.

"Your phone message sobered us up in minutes, Edward," Alice joked. Bella said you sounded worried about something. What's happened?"

Edward gripped Bella's hands with the free hand that wasn't around her shoulders, and held on to them while he broke the news.

"I was interviewed by a French reporter today. He had just been handed pictures of Bella and me making-out behind Carlo's cafe. It's possible, or should I say probable, that these pictures will be everywhere tomorrow; on the internet, in newspapers and magazines, and possibly on television."

Bella shrieked and her hands flew up to her mouth. Alice's eyes widened, as the implications for Bella's career and reputation were obvious, even to her.

"Shit!" Alice responded, as Bella's head dropped to her knees. Edward could tell she was crying.

"Jasper is calling in every favor, and promising favors in return, to reduce the damage. The only bit of hope we have, is that the photos don't show our faces, and we could deny it was us, if that's what Bella wants to do. I'm happy to go along with anything she wants."

Bella's head came up from her knees and she grabbed some tissues from a box on the coffee table.

"Are you saying they're not sure it's definitely us, Edward?"

Edward shook his head. "The photographers know it's us, but they have to convince editors it's _definitely_ us. They are probably going from magazine to magazine right now, trying to sell them to the highest bidder. But editors won't pay top dollar if they're not a hundred percent convinced it's you and me."

Alice jumped into the conversation. "What do you think you should do, Edward? It's your reputation as well."

"My reputation doesn't matter, Alice; I'm a guy, and guys are expected to do that sort of thing. Bella's reputation is what's important here, and I'll do anything to protect it."

Just then, Edward's phone started to ring and he saw it was Jasper, who he'd forgotten to call back. He flipped it open and said, "Hi, any news?

"Only that my contact at the Daily Mail says that his editor has been offered them, but has turned them down. Apparently most of the other newspapers aren't interested, as these photographers have got a bad reputation and they are asking for a hell of a lot of money. They haven't appeared on the internet yet either, so hopefully London might not get to know about them for a while. I would guarantee they will end up in a French rag though, but probably not for a few days. How has Bella taken it?"

"How do you think; she's pretty upset."

"I'm not surprised. Are you staying there for the moment?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. I'll call you back when things are clearer."

"Can you put Alice on; I need to talk to her."

Edward handed his phone to Alice, who stood up and left the room, leaving Edward to comfort Bella, who was still sniffling into a handful of tissues.

"Bella, I'm so sorry," he whispered, and gathered her up in his arms.

Bella turned towards him and laid her hand on the side of his face then kissed him gently on the lips.

"Edward, there's nothing to be sorry about. It takes two to tango, and it's not as if I was putting up a fight. If you hadn't kissed me behind Carlo's cafe, I would have been devastated. I wanted you to kiss me; I couldn't stop thinking about you kissing me all the time we were in the cafe, so don't put all the blame on yourself."

Edward pulled Bella onto his lap and she snuggled her face into his neck for a moment until she realized Edward was chuckling.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, I suppose it's because the paparazzi have been after photos of me with a girl for years, and the first ones they get are me behind a cafe, surrounded by trash cans, cardboard boxes, and God knows what else. Not very romantic!"

"Well I thought it was; it was spontaneous."

"True, but I presumed most girls would prefer to be kissed on a white sandy beach, or a beautiful mountainside, or a forest glade; not surrounded by smelly dumpsters or in restaurant restrooms."

Bella ran her fingers through Edward's hair and kissed him on the end of his nose. "I wasn't looking at the scenery, Edward; I only had eyes for you."

Edward kissed Bella gently on her lips for saying that, but Bella had other ideas. The chaste kiss turned into a full-on, mouths-open, tongue-entwined, passionate encounter. Bella twisted her body so she was straddling him and slid her fingers into his hair as his hands gripped her around her waist. She could feel his erection pressing against her intimate area and she gyrated on top of him, increasing the sensation for both of them.

Edward's hand had disappeared under her top again, but this time it was sliding over her back and under her bra strap. He was just about to undo it when they heard a cough, and Alice was standing in the doorway with a knowing smirk on her face.

"Jeepers, Alice, I forgot you were here!" Edward spluttered.

"Obviously! Apologies for interrupting you Edward, but Jasper says he's going to send you an e-mail shortly. So, if you can drag yourself away from Bella for a few minutes to read it, he would be grateful."

"Okay, Alice; thanks."

"Right, you two, I'm off to The Savoy to spend the night with Jasper, so you've got the apartment to yourselves. There's food in the fridge, spare underwear in the drawers, and condoms in the bathroom. Have fun!"

With that, Alice picked up a large bag that was by her feet, which contained a change of clothes and other essentials for an overnight stay, and disappeared out the door laughing.

* * *

**A/N**

**For those of you who are wondering, a 'nipper' is an English term for a child. 'Cor Blimey' is another very old English expression that derived from the term 'God Blind Me'! Here endeth the lesson.**

**I hope you enjoyed the car chase. Lovely Leon the cabbie, will make an appearance again - what a guy!**

**Now lets get down to the more important stuff - they are alone, in Alice's apartment ...! Eeeek!**

**Joan xx**


	14. Chapter 14

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Fame, Fairy lights and Fantasies (coming true)**

* * *

After they heard Alice close the door to the apartment, they sat, un-moving, in stunned silence, until Bella went to clamber off Edward's lap.

"Hey, where are you going? I was enjoying what we were doing."

Edward pulled a sulky face and Bella blushed when she saw the evidence of how much he had been 'enjoying himself'. There was a large bulge underneath his jeans, right where she had been straddled across him.

"I need the bathroom," she mumbled, and carried on wriggling off his lap until she was standing. Her legs were wobbly, partly due to the alcohol she had consumed earlier, but also due to the effect of Edward's sensual kisses on her equilibrium. She left the room, leaving Edward to deal with his outrageously obvious erection, even if the only thing he could do was to rearrange himself in his jeans.

Alice had left his cell phone on the coffee table, so he flicked it open and found the app that opened his e-mails. The one he was expecting from Jasper had arrived, and he opened it with trepidation.

Jasper went straight to the point:

_Nothing on the Internet yet, thank God._

_Best case scenario – photographs are not published._

_Next best case scenario – some photos are published and it's impossible to see it's you two. My advice would be to do and say nothing. If you deny it and more photos surface, and it is definitely you two, then you're in the shit for lying._

_Worst case scenario – they have more photos that Henri hasn't seen and they are published. My advice then would be to come clean, and the two of you say you're an item, but were trying to keep it under wraps until after Bella's opening night, as long as Bella's happy about that._

_I've put feelers out and spoken to as many people as possible in the media. Basically I've told my contacts that you refuse to talk about your private life, even to me, and you won't confirm or deny it's you out of principle. But you are friends with Bella, and you are livid that her reputation could be sullied by a couple of amateur photographers trying to make a quick buck. __I've been trying to convince them, without actually saying it, that this is an elaborate hoax, and they are in danger of falling for it. We'll just have to wait and see._

_If I hear anything else I'll call you._

_Alice is staying here tonight, so I suggest you stay put at the apartment. If word has got around, the paparazzi are probably camped out at Bella's hotel already. The Savoy doormen keep shooing photographers away, but they are persistent._

_Have fun,_

_Jasper_

_BTW Just in case Alice forgot to tell you, the condoms are in the bathroom cupboard._

_J_

Edward switched his phone off and reflected on what Jasper had written. If he had his way, he would have shouted from the rooftops that it was him with Bella. But it wasn't up to him; it was Bella's call.

He accepted that being a girl in show business was much tougher than being a guy, and Bella's career as a serious stage actress would suffer, if photographs of her, with her legs wrapped around a movie star, were splashed all over the tabloid newspapers and gossip magazines. Her credibility could take a nosedive, which would be totally unfair, given that it was a brief moment in time and not a reflection of her character.

He could imagine the headlines tomorrow, two days before her opening night, if it was proved it was her. Words like '_Juliet shags her Romeo_' or '_Edward Tames the Shrew_'. The ability to damage her career, and make her a figure of ridicule, was in the hands of journalists who were only interested in the next big story and a very large pay check.

Bella had been gone quite a while, so he got up and went in search of her. This was not difficult, as the apartment was tiny, having only one living room, two bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom, all off a central hallway. He could hear noises coming from the furthest room and went to investigate, and found Bella in the tiny kitchen, going through the refrigerator to see if there was anything worth eating.

"Bella!" he said; she didn't turn around, but carried on searching through the shelves.

"Are you okay?"

Bella nodded without looking at him.

"I'm just looking for something to eat; are you hungry?"

"Yes, but not for food. Come back to the living room, please."

Bella whipped around to face him, and Edward could see she had been crying again. He walked towards her, but she backed away from him.

"Edward, we can't do this. I'm sorry if I led you on; I don't know what came over me."

Bella held her hands up as though she was trying to stop him touching her, then dropped her arms down and shook her head in resignation.

"Damn it, that's a lie. Whenever I'm near you, Edward, I lose control; I'm not ready for what could happen. Now we're in Alice's apartment, on our own, and I don't think I'll be able to stop myself."

Edward carried on walking towards her and put his arms around her.

"Bella, I'm not going to force myself on you, or make you do anything you don't want to do. I admit I want to make love to you, I think that's pretty obvious, but you're the one with the power here; it's your call."

"I'm sorry, Edward. It's just that if we...if we end up in bed, my feelings for you will change. I won't want you to go back to America, and I need to be focused right now; which means I need to be alone. Do you understand where I'm coming from?

Edward kissed her on top of her head; his lips lingering while Bella relaxed in his arms. Edward held her until she was breathing steadily.

"Are you okay now?" he asked.

Bella nodded then sat down on a kitchen chair while Edward got her a glass of water.

He rummaged through the fridge, and found some eggs, ham and vegetables, and suggested making a Spanish omelette. Bella smiled up at him in affirmation, and after she had composed herself, they prepared the meal together. Twenty minutes later, they were sitting outside in Alice's tiny walled garden, on a patio only big enough to take two chairs and a small table, having an intimate dinner of omelette, slightly stale crusty bread, slightly flat lemonade, and just out-of-date yoghurt.

After dinner they talked about their childhood, growing up on either side of the United States; Edward in California and Bella in Boston. They discovered Bella had met some of Edward's stage school contemporaries; the ones who had chosen a career in theater rather than movies, and had moved to New York to try their luck on Broadway.

Bella told Edward that she had inherited her love of acting and Shakespeare from her grandmother. Elizabeth Swan had been a reasonably successful actress in the 40's and 50's before she got married, and she had encouraged Bella to think of acting as a career, which was against the wishes of her parents, who were both lawyers. Her grandmother passed away in the autumn of last year, but she had seen Bella perform on stage as the lead in an off-Broadway production, and died knowing her granddaughter was going to be a star and was effectively living her own dream.

Edward told Bella about the car chase through London, and how they managed to shake off the photographers. Bella thought the story was hilarious, and would have loved to have been in the cab with him, even though she probably would have been terrified. Edward showed her the selfie he took with Leon, and Bella made him flick through some of the other photos stored on his phone, which were mainly of his dog and his house in LA.

When it started to get dark, Edward flicked on a switch next to the table, expecting a single light to illuminate the patio. But instead, the switch turned on hundreds of tiny white lights that were either fixed to the high stone walls surrounding the garden, or threaded through the shrubs and trees.

"Wow!" Bella exclaimed. "It's like being in fairy-land."

Edward picked up her hand that was on the table and kissed it.

"Alice has certainly worked her magic here, but the beauty of this garden is nothing compared to you, Bella."

Bella's blush was evident to Edward, even in the dim light, but he wasn't going to try to seduce her this evening; he wanted to enjoy his time with her and take her mind off what might happen tomorrow. Of course, if she changed her mind, he would be more than ready to 'rise to the challenge', but for the time being he was enjoying being in the company of this beautiful girl, in this magical garden, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights.

"Did you read Jasper's e-mail by the way?" she said, which jolted him back to real time.

Edward nodded. "Yes. He says he's pretty sure the national newspapers haven't picked up the photographs, so it's a waiting game to see if they turn up on the Internet or anywhere else."

"Do you think they will?"

"Yes, they probably will, and most certainly they'll be in French magazines. But if they haven't got any pictures that show our faces, I doubt whether the public will be convinced it's us. The pictures will quickly be forgotten about and disappear without trace, hopefully."

"I hope so too," Bella said ruefully. "I still haven't decided whether to warn the theater or not. What do you think I should do?"

"Wait and see what happens in the morning, but if they have been published, I think you should tell them the truth, whether our faces are shown or not, just in case more pictures surface later on."

Bella thought about this and then nodded in agreement. "You're right; I need to be straight with them. Damn it and damn those photographers to hell. I don't know how you've put up with this type of shit all these years!"

"Don't worry about it tonight, Bella. Anyway, what you need is a good night's sleep. You can have Alice's room, and I'll sleep in the other bedroom. Is that okay?"

"Thanks, Edward. You really are a gentleman."

Edward laughed. "If you knew what thoughts were running through my head right now, you wouldn't think that for one moment."

"Stop it!"

"Sorry, Bella, I'm just a guy; I can't help it. Anyway, I've already told you what I fantasize about before I go to sleep at night, and that won't change when I get in my cold, lonely bed, knowing you're in the room next door."

Bella giggled and started clearing the table. Edward picked up the plates and glasses, and when everything had been returned to the kitchen and washed up, he turned the outside lights off, and the fairyland garden was plunged into darkness.

Bella went in the bathroom first and came out wearing one of Alice's nightshirts. She called out goodnight to Edward, who was making sure all the windows and doors were locked. He appeared from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand for Bella to take in the bedroom with her. He put one finger under her chin and lifted her face to his, and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

"You know where I am if you need anything, Bella."

"Thanks, Edward, and thanks for being so understanding. I don't deserve you."

Bella took the glass and said goodnight again, then closed the bedroom door, leaving Edward out in the hall with his emotions in overdrive.

He wandered into the bathroom, stripped off his t-shirt and splashed water on his face and neck. As he dried himself with the only towel he could find, he looked at the reflection of himself in the mirror.

Who was 'this Edward' looking back at him, he thought? When he left New York bound for London, 'that' Edward Cullen was an arrogant, shallow, misogynistic know-it-all, who didn't give a shit about anyone else's feelings. 'That Edward' looked after number-one, no-one else. He was a self-imposed exile from humanity.

He physically winced when he thought about all the shitty things he'd done in the past, and how he had treated people; using them for his own ends, and blanking people that were not worth talking to. He reflected on the reason he had grown to be like that, but the last five days had made him see the world in a different light.

The Edward Cullen looking back at him in the mirror was a different man. He was kind, respectful, considerate and...happier.

He knew that if this situation had happened two weeks ago in Los Angeles, he wouldn't have cared about 'the girl's' career or reputation, as long as he came out of the fiasco smelling of roses. But now, he was putting 'this girl', who he'd known for less than a week, first above everything. What had happened to him between then and now he thought? Was it Bella's influence? Was it the dreams? Had Alice done something to him to change his personality? Had he fallen in love?

He looked at himself in the mirror again and stared at his reflection, as though he was searching for signs of a physical change as well, but it was the same face staring back at him as always. Maybe his hair wasn't as well-groomed as usual, but he could actually blame that on Bella, as she loved burying her fingers in it. With that thought he felt his cock twitch, which was not a good sign, with Bella tucked up in bed only a few yards away.

He left the bathroom and went into the small but comfortable spare bedroom, and took off the rest of his clothes except for his boxers. He put his watch and phone on the nightstand, and climbed into the old-fashioned double bed that almost filled the room. The white cotton sheets were cold, and he shivered when he pulled the thin duvet over his body, so he curled up in a ball to hug some warmth into himself. He was tired, but his mind was still active, and he guessed that it was possible he could have another one of his dreams tonight.

He thought about what had happened today, and who might invade his subconscious thoughts while he was asleep. He hoped it would be Bella, but he'd tried keeping her in his thoughts before he dropped off to sleep, and that didn't work. Alice was all about Jasper, so he was sure she wouldn't be popping in and out of his subconscious. He was confident Leon wouldn't invade his dreams, unless of course he was fantasizing about being a secret agent, working for MI6, and the two of them were chasing KGB agents around the streets of London. Henri, of course, might want to get his own back for spoiling his chance of winning a Pulitzer Prize, but apart from those three, he couldn't think of anyone who might want to invade his night time thoughts.

He was warming up now, and he stretched out in the comfortable bed and then his right hand found its way into his boxers. He had been thinking about Bella, curled up alone in Alice's bed, and was now as hard as a rock. He knew he couldn't do anything about relieving himself while he was in someone else's bed, so he started imagining having to kiss a woman with rotten teeth and bad breath to try and deflate the problem.

As he was lying there, he heard a noise outside in the hall and half-sat up in bed. Then he heard the bathroom door open and close. He heard running water, and a cupboard door being opened and shut, then the bathroom door was opened again and the light was turned off.

He listened for Bella's bedroom door, but didn't hear any other sounds, so he lay there wondering whether she had gone into the kitchen to re-fill her glass. For some reason he was sweating, and he ran his hand over his forehead to wipe off the perspiration, then cleaned his hand on the duvet cover, feeling guilty afterwards about doing that to Alice's bedding.

He heard a squeaking sound and noticed the door handle was slowly turning, and he held his breath.

"Please, please, please, let it be Bella" he prayed, as the door opened.

As the natural light from the hall filtered through into the room, he saw her standing there, silhouetted in the doorway.

"Are you awake, Edward?" she whispered.

"Yes. Are you okay, Bella; do you need anything?"

"I need you, Edward. I really need you, now."

Edward sat up quickly and switched the bedside light on which only dimly illuminated the room. He swung his legs out of bed and walked cautiously towards her. He took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom, and closed the door behind her, then took her in his arms and held her. As her hands started sliding up his naked back, he was praying.

"Please, God, don't let this be a dream; please, please let this be real."

He walked backwards towards the bed, and Bella followed him without breaking their embrace. He stopped when he felt the bed behind him, and sat down, pulling Bella between his open legs. His hands slipped under her nightshirt and he ran his fingers up the outside of her thighs towards her waist, and he discovered she wasn't wearing any underwear.

Bella started unbuttoning the front of the shirt, but Edward quickly removed his hands from her waist and whispered, "I'll do that."

He slowly undid the buttons, one by one, while Bella's fingers played with his hair. He loved that sensation, and he bent his head down so that she could run her fingers over his whole scalp. By the time he had finished unbuttoning the shirt, he was moaning in ecstasy.

Before he went any further, he looked up at Bella who was staring down at him, and said in a soft voice, "If you want me to stop, just say so."

Bella shook her head and slipped the shirt from her shoulders, so she was standing naked in front of him. Edward couldn't help it, but he let out a sob of contentment.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, and he meant it. Her body was soft and natural, not surgically enhanced like most of the women he slept with. Her breasts were small, but in his eyes, perfect. The rest of her body was slim but not thin. On her hip, he noticed a dainty tattoo of a yellow rose, and he bent down and kissed it.

He placed his hands gently around her waist and pulled her towards him, then nuzzled his face between her breasts. Bella cradled his head in her arms, as Edward's hands started exploring her body.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmured, then his mouth moved to her breasts, and his tongue lapped each nipple. His mouth covered each breast, kissing and sucking them in turn, while his hands moved down her back and over her buttocks.

Edward shuffled backwards on the bed and gently pulled Bella on top of him. His hands were moving over her body in a more frenzied fashion now, and he was desperate to be inside her. But he was determined for Bella to feel that he was making love to her on their first night together, not just having sex.

He rolled Bella onto her side, and for the first time since she entered the room, he kissed her; deeply and passionately. Bella responded, clinging to his body so every part of her was touching him. He ran his hand over her breasts and down across her soft belly, then he carefully slid his hand between her legs and gently moved his fingers around her most intimate area. Bella moaned wantonly, and lifted her free leg upwards, allowing Edward more access, then she hooked her knee over Edward's hip, opening herself up to him.

Bella's hands fluttered across his back and slid inside his boxers; her fingers digging into his taut muscles as she pulled him closer towards her. His arousal was pressing into her stomach now, and she could feel his cock twitching underneath the soft cotton fabric.

Edward was desperate to get his boxers off, but he wanted to make Bella feel good first. He carried on kissing her as his fingers explored the sensitive area between her legs, then he gently pushed one finger inside her and Bella cried out with pleasure. He rubbed slow circles on the walls of her vagina, looking for the magic spot, then he pulled his finger out and carefully inserted two fingers inside, as Bella gasped and her body shuddered. His expert fingers moved in and out as his thumb massaged her clit, and Bella clung onto him with her face buried in his neck, crying out and whimpering as he moved her to the point of elation.

He felt Bella's body tense up and he noticed she was holding her breath.

"Relax and let it come, Bella," he whispered, and she collapsed in his arms as her orgasm took over her body. Edward watched her face contort with pleasure as she touched the edge of heaven, and he knew that as long as he lived, he would never forget this moment, witnessing her come apart in his arms because of what he had done for her.

When she returned to Earth and her body had stopped shuddering, Edward kissed her on the lips and went to roll off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Bella whispered.

"Condom," Edward replied, as he headed towards the door.

"There's one in the pocket of my nightshirt, Edward."

Edward rolled back on the bed beside her and brushed her hair from her face and kissed away a few tears that were on her cheeks.

"You are exquisite, Bella; I'm going to make you feel so good tonight."

"You already have, Edward. I want you to feel good so badly, it hurts," she replied, and kissed him back forcefully on his lips.

Edward reached over the edge of the bed and found Bella's nightshirt on the floor and took the condom from the pocket. He rolled on his back and pulled his boxers off, then got onto his knees between her legs and stroked his rock hard penis as he looked at Bella lying on the bed in front of him. Her beautiful mahogany curls were spread out over the white cotton pillows and her open hands were resting beside her head. Her body was writhing gently on the pristine white sheets, as she anticipated what Edward was going to do to her, and her legs were open wide ready to receive him.

He looked down at the vision before him, and suddenly realized she had recreated his fantasy for him; the one he had confessed to having each night when they were in the cafe. But this was no dream or fantasy; this was real. Bella was the best he'd ever had, and he hadn't even had her yet. This girl was a keeper, and he was going to transport her to paradise right now, and nothing was going to spoil this moment.

He rolled the condom on his length and bent over and kissed Bella gently on the mouth.

"Are you okay, Bella?" he asked. Bella nodded and moved her hands up so she was caressing his face.

"Love me, Edward; I need you so much."

Edward pulled away from her and watched the expression on her face, as he slowly slid inside of her. His ego expanded by a thousand times as he saw the look of carnal lust spread over Bella's countenance as he filled her. He took into account that she was tiny, so was careful to move very gently at first to allow her time to get used to him. He wanted to cry out as she felt so amazing, and this incredible feeling increased as his movements slowly gathered pace.

Bella opened her eyes and realised he was holding back. The strained look on his face told the tale, and she reached up and ran her hands over his chest.

"Don't hold back, Edward, I'm not made of porcelain; just love me how you want to."

Edward whimpered with relief and his thrusts gradually accelerated in pace and force. He dropped down onto his elbows, and his hands gripped the back of Bella's head as his mouth crashed down on hers, and he kissed her like it was the last time.

"God help me, you're so beautiful," he said between thrusts, and Bella pulled her legs off the bed and wrapped them tightly around his hips as he pounded into her. A feeling of total abandonment washed over him as Bella clung to him, as if he were her protector, and she moaned and cried out in ecstasy as he plunged inside her soft and welcoming body.

Edward could feel his orgasm building and he fixed his gaze on Bella's face as his climax approached. He slowed his pace and thrust forcefully into her as he worked towards his release, and as he felt his body tighten in anticipation, Bella's walls rippled over his penis as she experienced her second orgasm. The look of pure ecstasy on her face tipped him over the edge, and he exploded inside her, crying out in blissful agony at the exquisite release he had just experienced, tempered by the anguish that he would never experience another 'first time' with Bella again. He collapsed on top of her body, burying his face in her hair, and felt Bella relax underneath him. Her hands moved up to his head and she ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, while Edward purred with pleasure.

They lay like this for several minutes and waited for the world to start spinning again. Edward carefully pulled out of her and rested on his elbows so he could see her face. He could tell that she had been crying, and Edward brushed a tear away with his thumb.

"Are you okay, Bella; did I hurt you at all?"

"They're tears of happiness," Bella replied in a slightly croaky voice. "I've never been loved like that before, you were wonderful and caring."

"So were you, Bella. I've never had that sort of connection with a woman before in my life. You were made for me, Bella; I don't ever want to let you go."

They lay there touching each other's faces with kisses, until Edward rolled onto his side and pulled the condom off then tied a knot in it and put it on the floor.

"You need to sleep, Bella," Edward said, as he pulled the duvet over their bodies. "I'll hold you until you drop off and I promise I'll be a good boy for the rest of the night."

Bella giggled as she shuffled under the duvet, then sidled up to Edward so she was tucked into his side with her left arm across his torso.

"Goodnight, Edward. If you're going to dream, dream of me tonight, please."

"Not when I have the real thing lying next to me. I'm going to stay awake all night, just staring at you, if that's okay?"

Bella snuggled into Edward's chest and kissed it and within a few minutes he could hear her breathing steadily, but sleep was a long way away from Edward's mind, as he lay there with Bella wrapped in his arms.

"So this is what contentment feels like," he thought to himself. "I'm truly happy for probably the first time in my life, but I'm flying away from this girl the day after tomorrow. Just my fucking luck!"

He lay there thinking about all the obligations that were waiting for him back in LA, and was trying to work out how to get around them and stay in England, but he knew that's not what Bella wanted. He had to respect her wishes and leave her to get on with her career, but he was determined to come back several times while she was in London and Stratford, so he could keep this relationship going, even if it had to be flying visits for one night only.

He looked down at the sleeping girl beside him and resolved to be there for her, whatever it took, and then he realized he was already thinking of her as a long term proposition and it shocked him that it just felt right to him.

"Am I in love?" he said to himself.

"How the hell would I know?" his alter-ego said, philosophically.

He thought about his harem waiting for him in LA, but the thought of sleeping with any of them horrified him now. Not because he had found someone better, or felt less of the girls who would be waiting for his call as soon as he landed; but because of how he had treated them in the past. He had used them as sex objects, nothing more, and his behavior he now accepted was contemptible. He resolved to sort this out as soon as he got back to the States, but how, he didn't know.

He took a last look at Bella snuggling into his chest and closed his eyes. Recollections of their love making invaded his mind as he drifted into sleep, and his last memory was of Bella's fingers massaging his head then sliding over his back as he lay on top of her sated body.

* * *

He woke several hours later and saw the sun peeping through the blinds, meaning a new day had dawned in London town. He reached over to pull Bella towards him, but the bed was empty. He lifted himself up on his elbows and looked at the floor, and her nightshirt and the condom were gone. He listened for sounds of movement in the apartment, but apart from low level noise from traffic that was filtering through the windows, the apartment was silent.

He wandered out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, then went to look for Bella. The kitchen was empty, so he looked on the patio to see if she was in the garden. No luck there, so he peered into the living room which was as they left it last night. He guessed she was in Alice's bedroom getting dressed. He knocked gently on the door and called her name, but there was no response. He knocked again, then slowly opened the door to reveal an empty room, but the bed had been made up and there was no sign of Bella's clothes or other belongings.

He stood in the hallway scratching his head, before realizing Bella probably would have had to get up early to go to rehearsals and had let him sleep. He was disappointed that he had missed out on some morning-after loving, or just being able to talk to her about last night.

He wandered towards the kitchen, as he needed some coffee to wake himself up completely, before phoning Jasper to see what had happened overnight. As he walked down the hallway, he noticed a piece of paper with his name on it on a small shelf by the kitchen door. He opened it up and read the following message to him from Bella.

_Hi, Edward – hope you slept well._

_Alice has messaged me to say there's nothing much in the papers or on the internet, so looks like we've got away with it._

_I won't see you again before you go back to the States, so have a great trip home. __Hopefully we'll meet up again soon._

_Bella x_

Edward read the note again and again. This wasn't a note left by a lover after a night of passion; this was a friend to a friend note, or one between a sister and brother, so what the hell happened to her between last night and this morning?

Then the awful truth hit him like an express train;

there had been no night of passion,

she hadn't invited herself into his bed,

he hadn't made love to her,

last night had been a dream all along.

It was all in his imagination, and his blissful memory of Bella giving herself to him and coming apart in his arms became a grotesque nightmare.

Edward let go of the note, which fluttered to floor, and bent double, as though he was going to be sick, then he collapsed to the floor on his knees.

As a tsunami of despair crashed over him, he curled up in a ball, and cried, as though his heart was breaking.

* * *

**A/N**

**Poor Edward (dabs eyes)! His emotions are taking a real battering. Can he take much more of this? **

**For Rob fans - if you want me to let you know what it was like to be breathing the same air as him at the BFI and the Apple Store last week, send me a review with a 'Yes Please' or a :)), and I'll send you my account. OMG !**

**Joan xx (still on Cloud Nine) **


	15. Chapter 15

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Anger, Angst and Aggression**

* * *

Edward pulled himself upright and staggered into the bathroom as he felt physically sick. He had been lying on the hall floor for several minutes, unable to move, as the shock of falling victim to yet another vivid dream hit home, but this time the repercussions for his state of mind were cruel and damaging.

The devastation he felt initially was turning to anger now. His heart had been ripped to shreds, his feelings had been stomped on with iron boots, and a range of emotions, ranging from fury to despair, were overloading his shattered soul.

His reflection in the bathroom mirror told a similar story. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his skin was pale, as though his life-blood had been sucked from him, and his hair was a sweaty mess. He sat on the edge of the bath and put his head in his hands, feeling utterly destroyed.

He heard Bruce Springsteen warbling away on his phone in the bedroom and rushed to answer it, hoping it was Bella, but it was only Jasper, so he ignored the call as he wasn't up to talking to anyone but Bella for the moment. He picked up his watch and saw that it was just after half past nine, and presumed Bella would be in rehearsals now anyway, so there was no point trying to call her either.

He wandered back to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped off and stood under the steaming water, recalling the events of last night, and the euphoria he had felt after the best sex he had ever had, real or unreal.

"Sex" he said aloud to himself. "I woke up this morning, thinking I'd made love to a girl who could have turned out to be the love of my life, but IT DIDN'T FUCKING HAPPEN," he yelled, as the red-hot needles of water flayed his naked skin.

He banged his head and fists against the wall of the shower, as the painful knowledge that he'd been cheated out of the best experience of his life sunk in. But after a few moments under the cleansing torrent, he started thinking rationally for the first time since he read Bella's note.

"If it was a dream, that means I haven't actually slept with Bella yet" he mused, "which means we could have another 'first time'. She likes you, Edward; in fact she likes you a lot, so don't give up. You've still got today to tell her how you feel, before you have to go back to Holly_-Fucking-_Wood."

He got out of the shower feeling slightly less desolate, and wrapped his lower body in Alice's baby-pink fluffy towel that was hanging on the back of the door, but had to hunt around to find a spare towel for his hair which was dripping down his back.

He dried himself off, and dressed in his clothes from yesterday, which was a first for him, then wandered back to the bathroom to sort his face and hair out. He found some plastic disposable razors in the bathroom cabinet, so decided to give himself a wet-shave, even though Bella said she loved his stubbly jaw.

While he was carefully removing three days of growth from his face, he reflected on last night's dream again, and how vivid and realistic it was, even more so than his previous dreams or fantasies. He had examined the bed after he got dressed, and there was no evidence of him ejaculating in his sleep, but he had woken that morning feeling sexually satiated, as if he had come at some point during the night. He'd had plenty of experience over the years to recognize whether his balls were in a happy place or not, and this morning they were delirious, which was strange.

He had calmed down now, and was reluctantly accepting that he hadn't slept with Bella, but he had admitted to himself he was at breaking point because of the dreams. He decided he needed professional help, and made up his mind that when he got back to the States, he would get some medical advice and seek a psychiatrist or psychotherapist, in fact anybody who was a 'psy-anything', in order to put an end to this nightmare.

When he finished shaving, he tried to sort his hair out with his fingers, but it was in a mess, sticking out in various directions, like Krusty the Clown from The Simpsons.

"I can't go out looking like that," he thought, so he started looking through cupboards and drawers for a hairdryer and a comb or brush, as his fingers were making no impact at all on his thick mane of hair.

He wasn't having much luck in the bathroom or spare bedroom, so, reluctantly, he went into Alice's room and opened the drawers of her bedside cupboards, then went through her dressing table as a last resort.

There was nothing but make up and various creams and lotions in the first couple of drawers he opened, but in the deepest drawer, he found a hair dryer, then spotted the bristles of a hairbrush, partially concealed underneath some hair straighteners. He reached in to pull it out, and as the whole brush appeared, he immediately recognized it as the one he thought he had left at the BBC.

"What the fuck is this doing here?" he said out loud, as he turned the brush over in his hand, just to make sure it was definitely the same one.

Then, slowly, but surely, the realization hit him like a sledge hammer, that Alice must have somehow taken the brush from his room, while Bella was distracting him in the studio corridor, which culminated in her kicking his shin. As this knowledge sunk into his already devastated and confused brain, his knuckles went white around the handle, as the possibility they may have worked together to take this from him became more of a certainty, and rage and anger built up in his gut like a volcano, until he exploded.

"You lying bitch!" he yelled at the top of his voice, directing his venom at Alice. "You used this to cast a spell on me, you fucking, vindictive, evil, witch!"

Edward stormed out of the bedroom, grabbed his things together in seconds, pulled his beanie over his damp hair, and left the apartment, slamming the door hard behind him and exiting onto the street. Alice's apartment was in a quiet avenue, and he had to walk to a main road to find a cab, so he headed in the direction of where most of the traffic noise was coming from. As he half-walked/ half-jogged along the deserted pavement, he called Jasper, who answered immediately.

"Hi, Edward; good night was it?"

"Jasper, I haven't got time for bullshit this morning. Is Alice with you?"

"No, she had an early morning call and disappeared at about seven thirty, why?"

"Never mind, I'll call her myself."

"You sound pissed; what's up?" Jasper asked. He could tell that Edward was angry by the tone of his voice, and presumed that he and Bella hadn't 'got it on' last night.

"I'll tell you later; I've got stuff to sort out this morning."

"You've got commitments this morning; when are you getting back here."

"Fuck the commitments; I'll get back when I'm good and ready."

"What's going on, Edward, and where are you going?"

"The National Theater; I need to see Bella urgently."

"She's not there. They're not having rehearsals today. The cast are having a break before opening night. She won't be going back to the theater until Wednesday afternoon."

"How do you know this?"

"Alice told me yesterday; that's why she came over here. She thought you and Bella could have a two-night love-in before you went back to America."

Edward stopped himself from being abusive at that comment, as he wasn't in the mood to explain to Jasper what had, or more correctly, what hadn't happened.

"Where has Alice gone?" he asked, trying to sound reasonable.

"No idea, but she said she would be back later. Do you want me to give her a message?"

"No, but I need to see her on her own. I want the truth from her this time. She's lied to me, big time, and I want answers."

It was Jasper's turn to sound angry now.

"What do you mean, Edward? If she said she hasn't cast a spell on you, then I believe her."

"Well, you tell me this, Jasper Whitlock," Edward hissed. "Why the fuck did she have **_my_** hairbrush hidden in her dressing table? You know, the one that went missing at the BBC? I don't know much about witchcraft, but I do know that witches need something that's owned by their **_victim_** before they cast a spell on them, and preferably something from their body like **_hair_**. So you tell your pagan witch girlfriend that I want some fucking answers this time, and not denials any more; do you hear me?"

"I hear you, Edward, but I'm going to be in the room when you talk to her. I'm not having anyone speaking to her like you're speaking to me right now."

"Well, Jasper, being nice for the last few days has done me no fucking good at all. Maybe the old Edward might have been doing things right all along, because right now, I can truly say, I have never felt so confused, used, abused, tricked, humiliated, and most of all, unhappy, as I am right now."

With that, Edward turned his phone off and stood by the side of the road, trying to quell the rage and anger in his gut, until he felt ready to hail a cab. When he eventually calmed himself, he flagged one down, and gave the driver the name of Bella's hotel, and spent the journey time contemplating what he was going to do next.

He had intended calling Alice from the cab, but knew he was too wound up now to speak to her coherently; he would wait until he had spoken to Bella, as he needed to find out if she was in on the plot, and whether she knew what Alice had done to him. If she was involved, he didn't know how he was going to handle that knowledge, as he knew he would never be able to trust her again, even though it was obvious he was falling in love with her.

"How could she have laughed at him," he thought, when he told her in Carlo's cafe he suspected Alice had cast a spell on him. Was she laughing _at_ his discomfort? Was she in on the cruelest joke that had ever been played on him? Could he walk away from her if, as he now suspected, she was disloyal and untrustworthy? His mind was in turmoil, and as the cab wound its way through the teaming streets of London, another wave of despair crashed over him; so deep this time he felt like he was drowning.

Within ten minutes he was dropped off at Bella's hotel and the doorman held the door open for him as he walked through into the plush foyer. He realized he was wearing fairly scruffy clothes for this type of hotel, and wondered for a moment whether he would be believed when he said he was a genuine visitor, and not an over-zealous fan. He prayed that Bella was in her room, but couldn't begin to imagine what he was going to say to her.

As he approached the front desk, he could overhear a heated argument taking place between the receptionist and a smartly dressed American man, who was insisting that she call a room, and tell a guest that he was in the foyer.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you must believe me when I tell you that your friend checked out of the hotel this morning," the receptionist said with a rigid smile on her face.

Edward could tell the receptionist was at her wit's end with this man by the tone of her voice, which was teetering on the edge of sounding frantic.

"I don't believe you!" the man responded forcefully; "I insist you call her room immediately. I've traveled thousands of miles to be here, and I'm not taking no for an answer. Tell her it's David Baxter."

The receptionist had obviously had enough.

"Would you like me to call the manager, who will confirm your friend has checked out, Sir?"

"Yes, I want to speak to the manager, now! I know for a fact she's staying at this hotel, as her mother gave me the details, so I'm staying put until I get satisfaction."

"Yes, Sir," the receptionist said, and picked up a telephone. After a few seconds the call was answered.

"Would you mind coming to reception, Mr. Jones? I have an urgent problem that needs resolving."

The receptionist put the phone down.

"Mr. Jones will be here shortly. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I will help the gentleman who has been waiting."

David Baxter glanced at Edward and turned his nose up in disgust. "Huh! Gentleman, I don't think so?"

"What's your problem, fuck-face?" Edward said in response. He wasn't in the mood for any shit this morning, and this guy was heading for trouble big time. He was in the right place at the right time for a left-hook. Edward noticed the receptionist's mouth go up in a smirk, as David Baxter recoiled from his retort, then rudely turned his back on him.

"Can I help you, _Sir_" she said, emphasizing the 'Sir'.

"Yes, I believe you can. I'm hoping to see Isabella Swan. She's not expecting me, but would you mind calling her room and letting her know I'm here. I'm Edward Cullen."

The receptionist's eyes nearly popped out of her head, as she suddenly recognized the disheveled man who was standing in front of her, but she wasn't able to respond, as David Baxter interrupted the conversation.

"Why would a tramp like you have any need to speak to _my_ Isabella?"

"What do you mean _your_ Isabella, and who the fuck are you?" Edward replied angrily.

"Isabella Swan is my fiancé, young man, so I suggest you run along and clean the drains, or do whatever job you're here for."

"You fucking..." Edward raised his arm to punch this asshole's lights out, but was physically stopped by the manager, who had just walked out of his office to deal with his receptionist's problem.

Edward spotted two security guards walking quickly towards him, but before he had time to react, the receptionist jumped to his defense.

She pointed to Edward's adversary and said to her manager, "Mr. Baxter was extremely rude and insulting to this gentleman when he found out he was also here to see Miss Swan. Mr. Baxter will not accept that Miss Swan checked out this morning, which is why I called for your assistance, Mr. Jones."

The manager let go of Edward's arm and Edward glared venomously at the man who was claiming to be Bella's fiancé, who was still looking at Edward like he was a piece of shit on his shoe.

The manager stepped between the opponents like a referee at a boxing match.

"Let's take this down a notch, gentlemen, and sort this out amicably in my office, shall we?"

Edward went to follow the manager across the foyer, but thought, "What's the point? If Bella isn't here, I might as well look for her somewhere else, rather than waste his time with the manager and this asshole." He turned to the receptionist, who was practically foaming at the mouth, and put on his best panty-melting smile.

"Did _my_ Bella leave a forwarding address by any chance? I'm not going to ask you to disclose it, as I presume it's confidential, but it may help to know that she had a plan to go on somewhere."

"No, Mr. Cullen, she was booked in to stay for the duration of her run at the theater, but she checked out this morning, unexpectedly, with no forwarding address; I'm so sorry."

David Baxter had just turned to follow the manager into his office, when he heard Edward say the words '_my_ Bella', and of course he couldn't leave it.

"How dare you refer to my fiancé in that manner; she wouldn't consort with a low-life like you, you're not in her league. I suspect you're one of these celebrity stalkers; in fact, I'm going to ask the manager to call the police and have you ejected from this hotel."

Edward's blood was boiling by now. If the two security guards hadn't been hovering nearby, he would have taken out all the morning's anger and frustration on this sanctimonious prick, who he now presumed was Bella's ex-fiancé.

He was tempted to tell him that last night, he and Bella had wild and passionate sex, and he'd brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy, _twice;_ or even if he just stuck to the truth, that they had shared open-mouthed, tongue delving, sensual kisses, while she was gyrating on top of his dick. But he still owed it to Bella to be discreet about their relationship, whatever that may be.

In the end he pulled his beanie off his head, and turned to the manager, who was at a loss what to do next.

"My name is Edward Cullen," and as he said his name, the manger recognized him, and extended his hand to shake. Edward reciprocated, giving the manager a warm smile.

"I can assure you there will be no problem from my end; I don't want any trouble. I am a _very_ good friend of Miss Swan's, and was hoping to see her again before I return to the States tomorrow. If your colleague says she's left, then I believe her, and I'll leave straight away."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cullen. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you immediately, and I'm sure we can sort this unfortunate situation out. If you would like to leave your contact details at the desk, my receptionist will pass them on to Miss Swan, if she has reason to contact us again."

David Baxter's jaw dropped, as he witnessed the manager and the other hotel staff fawning all over this unkempt young man, and went to say something, but Edward got in first.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones, and by the way, I can assure you Miss Swan is not engaged to this tosser. If anyone is a stalker here, it's him; so I suggest you show him the door, pronto!"

Edward turned his back on David Baxter and winked at the receptionist, who was almost hyperventilating. He could tell from the shouts and other noises behind him, that the security guards were escorting a furious David Baxter off the premises. He wanted to watch the asshole being manhandled out onto the street, but thought it best to focus on the receptionist, who might have some more information for him; and he was right.

The receptionist grinned at Edward and leaned over the counter to whisper in his ear.

"I shouldn't tell you this, but Miss Swan asked me to get her a cab, as she wanted to get to Kings Cross Station by nine. Also, she hasn't checked out completely; she has left her things in her room, and said she would be letting us know if she was moving hotels on Wednesday morning, before her opening night. I didn't tell that arsehole, because Miss Swan specifically asked us not to divulge where she was going to him, as she guessed he might show up; but I believe that you're a true friend."

"Thank you...Tracy," he said, spotting her name on a lapel badge. "That is very helpful, and I'm grateful that you trust me. I won't say anything when I find her."

He leaned over the counter and picked her hand up and kissed it. "If I don't track her down, please will you tell her I came here to say goodbye when she contacts you on Wednesday."

Tracy nodded and gave Edward a little wave as he headed towards the door, then she grabbed her own cell phone off the desk, hit the speed dial, waited for a few seconds and then shrieked out, "Mum! You'll never guess..."

* * *

Edward stood outside the hotel wondering what to do next. If she really had gone to a mainline train station, she could be anywhere in the country by now. "Maybe she's heading for Stratford," he mused. He strolled over to the doorman, who he guessed was a native Londoner from his accent when he greeted him on his arrival.

"Excuse me," he said. "If I wanted to travel to Stratford-on-Avon, which mainline train station would I use?"

The doorman scratched his head. "That would be Marylebone Station, Sir; do you want me to call a cab for you?"

"No, I was just curious. So trains from Kings Cross don't go there."

"No, they just go North and East. Stratford is a long way West of London."

Edward thanked him and wandered off away from the hotel. Who would Bella be visiting in England who was not in London, he thought? He knew she had visited England before, but he didn't know whether she had any friends here.

He opened his phone and found the anonymous number that had called yesterday, which he now knew was Bella's, and hit the call icon. As he was waiting for her to answer, his heart was pounding in his chest.

He thought she had answered, but it was just her voicemail kicking in, so he waited until the generic message had finished, and spoke in the calmest voice he could muster.

"Bella, I'm sorry you weren't there when I woke up this morning. Can you call me please; I want to know that you're okay. I...um I, err...sorry, what I want to say is, I need to sp...

And then his phone ran out of battery.

* * *

**A few hours earlier:**

"Hello, is that Angela Webber?"

"Yes, this is she; who is this and can you speak up a bit?"

"It's Isabella Swan."

"Isabella! How lovely to hear from you. But I'm intrigued why you're calling me so early in the morning."

"Angela, I know this is a bit forward of me, since we've only just met, but can I come and visit you? I've got a free day and night, and want to get out of London. I wondered if you were at your house in Cambridgeshire. If you're busy, don't worry, I'll find somewhere else to go."

"That would be wonderful, Isabella. I would love to see you again. Do you know how to get here?"

"No, not really, I'm not sure where you live."

"Go to Kings Cross Station and get a train to Cambridge. Call me when you're on the train, and I'll meet you at the station, then we'll drive to my house."

"Thank you, Angela; you're a life-saver."

"You're welcome, Isabella. However I'm looking forward to finding out the real reason you're leaving London, but I think I might just be able to guess."

Bella laughed. "And I'm sure you would probably be right. I'll see you soon."

With that, Bella hung up, then called down to the front desk and asked Tracy to book her a cab to get her to Kings Cross by nine. She packed a small overnight bag, grabbed her purse, and went down to reception. She handed her key to Tracy, and told her that she hadn't made her mind up about where she was going to stay after Wednesday, but if anyone asked where she was, especially a man called David Baxter, to tell them she had checked out for good. Tracy agreed and wished her a safe journey.

In the cab, she deleted yet another text from David, who she guessed was in the country by now. If he had her British cell number, she presumed her mother would have told him where she was staying, which was the one of the reasons she was considering moving hotels, not just to avoid Edward.

"Edward," she thought, and her mouth curled up in a smile. She knew she was falling in love with him, and she blushed at the memory of his touch, and the way he looked into her eyes last night, as though he could see directly into her soul. She also knew she had done the right thing leaving before he woke this morning, and hoped he would understand that saying goodbye to his face would have been impossible for her to do, without breaking down in front of him.

She looked out of the cab window at London flashing by, and wondered what Edward was doing this morning. She wasn't going to call him, or answer his calls, as she needed total separation to get her mind focused on her opening night again. Angela, she hoped, would be able to distract her from thinking about him, and she was grateful that Alice had taken Angela's phone number while they were in the restaurant, and had given it to her when she called her first thing this morning.

The cab dropped her at the station and she bought a ticket to Cambridge. The train was waiting to depart, and she hopped on, just as the whistle blew, and settled herself into her comfortable first class seat, feeling relaxed for the first time since she left Alice's apartment.

She knew she was effectively running away from Edward, but there was no alternative. If she'd have stayed, she wouldn't have been able to resist him, and she would have been in no fit state to perform on Wednesday night, in front of probably the most critical audience of her career.

She closed her eyes, and recalled the look of contentment on his beautiful face as she kissed his cheek lightly before she left the apartment, not wanting to wake him from a deep slumber. She remembered gently stroking his soft and silky just-fucked hair, then picking up Alice's crumpled nightshirt and the used condom from beside the bed.

She looked back at him one last time, with eyes blurred with tears, before silently closing the bedroom door.

With her emotions in overload, she walked away from the man who had made love to her, who had taken her to heights she had never reached before, and who had undoubtedly captured her heart.

* * *

**A/N**

**Deep breath everyone**

**eeeek!**

**I'm not saying anything this time ! You can hurl abuse at me for leaving you on a cliffie if you like though, (evil smirk)!**

**Joan (diving for cover) xx**


	16. Chapter 16

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Cottages, Counselling and Contraband**

* * *

Edward walked away from Bella's hotel, and ambled along the busy street with his head down, staring at the paving stones under his feet. He didn't know where he was going; he just needed some space to think about what to do next. This meant not going back to The Savoy, where Jasper would no doubt be lying in wait to give him the third degree.

He was hungry and very thirsty, so he bought an overpriced coffee, a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water in one of the generic coffee shops that were gradually replacing the independent cafes that used to be part of this city's fabric. Rather than increase the risk of being spotted by sitting at a table, he crossed the road to a small, gated park, surrounded by iron railings, shrubs and tall trees, and found a vacant bench. The green oasis he walked into reminded him of the idyllic haven that Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts discovered in the film Notting Hill, and he was surprised that places like this still existed in London, where land was so expensive.

He drank his coffee and ate his muffin in relative peace and quiet, while the London rat-race teamed around him. He thought about the note Bella had left him, and guessed she was saying to him that she didn't want to see him again before her opening night, so effectively the note was a final goodbye. He failed to understand how she couldn't trust herself to say this to his face before she left, as he believed he had behaved like a perfect gentleman during the previous evening. Something must have happened to make her behave in this way.

He sat there, trying to remember whether he had said something that may have upset her. They had kissed goodnight on friendly terms, so he was confident he hadn't made her feel uncomfortable. And then she had run away, like Cinderella at midnight, without leaving any clue as to her whereabouts. Why had she done that? He could understand if she was running from that prick, David Baxter; but not from him. Maybe Alice knew where she'd gone, or possibly someone connected with the theater knew, or, more importantly, if she was with anyone?

He finished his coffee and threw the empty cup into a bin, then looked around for any clues as to where he was. An old lady with a miserable looking Pekingese was walking towards him, so Edward stood up and said, "Excuse me."

The old lady stopped and smiled and brought the dog to heel. "Can I help you?" she said.

"I'm a bit lost," Edward admitted. "Where am I?"

"You're in Knightsbridge," the old lady replied, and pointed to a gate on the opposite side of the park.

"If you go out that way, turn right and carry on walking down that road, you'll eventually get to Harrods."

"Oh right, thank you," Edward said, and following her directions made his way out of the urban sanctuary, and along the quieter back-streets of London. After walking for about ten minutes, he reached a busy main road and hailed a cab, and reluctantly gave the driver instructions to take him to The Savoy, where he knew Jasper would be, ready and waiting to tear him limb from limb.

He was scheduled to meet a bevy of film people today at a reception at The British Film Institute, but he had had enough of being polite and sociable on this trip; they could go fuck themselves he thought. Then he felt guilty, as he knew he was letting people down by not showing up, but he was genuinely in no fit state to meet people and pretend to be interested in what they were saying.

Within fifteen minutes he arrived at The Savoy and left the safety of the cab to walk into the lion's den. The receptionist on duty was obviously under instructions to call Jasper immediately he set foot in the foyer, as he saw her pick the phone up as soon as she spotted him. He quickly went over to her with his best pleading look on his face.

"Sue, darling," he said, "can you give me at least fifteen minutes to sort myself out, change my clothes, that sort of thing, before you let Ghengis Khan know I'm back."

"Yes, Mr. Cullen," Sue replied with a wicked grin. "I'll call him in twenty and say you've gone straight up to your room."

"Thanks," he said, and headed for the elevators, and was soon in his suite tearing his dirty clothes off. He had another quick shower to freshen up; dampening his hair so he could brush it into shape. After rubbing some moisturizer into his newly shaved face, he was starting to feel almost human again. Just as he was pulling a clean t-shirt over his head, there was a loud pounding on the door.

He guessed it was Jasper, so purposefully ambled over to the door and opened it, to be greeted by his purple-faced agent who practically had steam coming out of his ears.

"Before you say anything, Edward, I know you're angry, but so am I. Have you _any_ idea the shit I've had to sort out this morning? I've had to lie to God knows how many people, because you can't be bothered to honor your commitments, and that's after calling in every favor I had banked to keep yours and Bella's tryst behind the cafe out of the tabloids. So give me a fucking break here, and tell me what the hell is going on!"

Edward managed to suppress his rage and consciously attempted to speak in a calm and composed manner.

"Jasper, I'm _truly_ grateful for what you've done to protect Bella, really I am, but your girlfriend has fucked my life up and I'm not putting up with her shit any more. She's done something to me, I don't know what, but I'm not going anywhere, or seeing anyone, until this is sorted. So you get her here, pretty damn quick. And if she _has_ done something to me, and you defend her, I'm finding a new agent as soon as I set foot on US soil, and that's a promise."

Jasper looked shocked. Edward's tone of voice was controlled, but the vehemence behind his words was obvious. He still didn't believe Alice had cast a spell on Edward, but the fact she had taken his hairbrush was irrefutable, and he was at a loss to know why she had done it. He had tried calling her, but every attempt went straight to voicemail, and he had no idea where she had gone.

Edward was staring at him, waiting for a response, but he didn't know what to say to him. He could tell that he was in a bad way, as his eyes were puffy, as though he had been crying, but maybe it was just through lack of sleep because of the dreams. He didn't dare ask him whether he had another dream last night, as he was sure Edward would explode.

He decided to bite the bullet.

"Edward, I don't know where Alice is. I've been trying to call her all morning, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. I'm very sorry, I can't be more helpful than that."

Jasper took a deep breath.

"I think you and I need to sit down and talk this through, not as agent and client, but as friends for a change. We've both had our lives turned upside down since we set foot in this country, and we need to sort ourselves out before we fly home tomorrow. You will be leaving Bella, and I will be leaving Alice, so we are both in the same boat so to speak."

"No, we're not," Edward said petulantly. "You and Alice are in a proper relationship; I don't know where I fucking stand with Bella, and it's driving me insane."

"How did you leave it this morning; I presume you both slept at Alice's?"

"Oh yes, we both certainly slept, 'like babies' I think is the saying. Bella left without saying goodbye. I've been to her hotel, but she's vanished off the face of the earth."

Jasper was tempted to say that he was obviously suffering from a serious case of blue balls, but didn't want to risk having his nose broken.

"What about last night; did she say anything about leaving before she went to bed?"

"No, she just thanked me for being a gentleman, and told me she didn't deserve me."

Jasper went over to an armchair and sat down. He was going to suggest something to Edward and thought that being seated would lessen the chance of being throttled.

"Edward, does it really matter? I mean, I know you like Bella a lot, but you're carrying on as if you're in love with her; you're not are you?"

"I don't know, Jasper. I mean, I don't really know what love is; what it's supposed to feel like. I can't stop thinking about her though; my heart goes crazy when I see her. I want to... I want to... Oh God, Jasper, I want to make love to her, but she backs away from me as though I'm the devil trying to corrupt her and ruin her life. And now I don't know if I can trust her. If she knows what Alice has done to me, then how can I forgive her for being involved?"

"What do you mean?"

"She distracted me when Alice got into my dressing room, and I saw them laughing at the end of the corridor when I was nursing my leg. My guess is she accosted me to give Alice time to get in my room, so she could use my brush to cast a spell on me."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I don't want to, Jasper, but it's too much of a coincidence that the dreams started after I met Alice."

Jasper shook his head ruefully. He hoped with all his heart that Alice wasn't involved, but was beginning to suspect something had happened to Edward. He bit the big bullet.

"Did you have another dream last night?"

"Oh yes, and it was the daddy of them all. I dreamt I had a night of passion with Bella and it was fucking marvelous. Then I woke up, and it was all a dream, or should I say a nightmare."

"How do you know? Are you absolutely sure it wasn't real?"

"Ninety-nine percent sure, yes. Bella left me a note, and it was like a note you leave your brother, not your lover, and not after what we did last night."

"Are you sure she wasn't just telling you, in the nicest possible way, that it was a one-night stand, and she wanted to end it there?"

"I don't know; that's why I need to talk to her. I can't leave it like this, not knowing."

Jasper stayed silent for a moment while Edward put his head in his hands. Jasper was sympathetic, as he was not looking forward to saying goodbye to Alice on Wednesday. He had fallen for her, big time, and was trying to persuade her to move to California, but she wasn't interested. He knew she felt something for him, as when they were making love, her words were ones of devotion, but the 'L' word hadn't been mentioned - yet!

"Have you any idea where she's gone?"

"She got a train from King's Cross, so she's gone north or east. She could be anywhere."

"Alice might know."

"I'm banking on it; otherwise I'm cancelling my flight home and camping outside the stage door until I see her."

Just at that moment, Jasper's phone rang and he flipped it open, mouthing, "It's Alice," to Edward.

"Hi, darling," he said, trying to sound totally normal.

Edward couldn't hear the other side of the conversation; he just heard Jasper saying "Yes" and "No" and "Really?" at appropriate intervals, as Alice talked non-stop for about five minutes. When she drew breath, Jasper cut in.

"Can you come back to the hotel this afternoon, Alice?"

Edward's eyes widened as Jasper was giving him the thumbs up.

"Okay, darling, see you at about two then. I'll be in Edward's suite."

He snapped his phone shut and relaxed back in his chair, relieved that Alice had made contact, but concerned about what she may be walking into.

"I'm not leaving this room until I'm convinced you're going to be civil to her, Edward. If she's done something to you, then I'm going to be mad like you, but I have better control over my emotions, and I've seen you at your worst when you're angry."

Edward knew Jasper was adamant about this, as he had witnessed him losing his cool when shit happened, but whatever Jasper thought of him, he wasn't a bully, and his intention was not to frighten Alice. He just wanted the truth, and he wanted the dreams to stop, but most of all he wanted her to take responsibility for the devastation he felt this morning, when he realized that he hadn't made love to Bella.

"That's okay, you can be here, but I'm not pussy-ing around when she arrives; I want answers."

"Well, we've got two hours to waste until she turns up; are you hungry?"

"Fucking starving! Get room service to send me up a giant cheeseburger with fries, coke and ice cream. I'm sick of eating healthy, so bring on the saturated fat and calories, and I'll agree with God to die a week earlier than planned."

Jasper picked up the hotel phone, and half an hour later their arteries were under serious attack.

* * *

Bella's train drew into Cambridge on time. She exited the station, and spotted Angela waving frantically at her from the window of an ancient Volkswagen Beetle that was parked illegally on double yellow lines. Bella hurried across the road and jumped into the passenger seat, without stopping for the normal hug/kiss greeting.

Angela rammed the car into gear, and lurched off down the road. Within seconds, Bella realized that Angela was not the best driver in the world; she basically pointed the car in the direction she wanted to travel, and put her foot down.

The rules of the road were for everybody else, as far as Angela was concerned. Bella lost count of the number of times she heard horns blaring, and curses being shouted, as Angela careened across lanes, cutting in front of other cars and causing pedestrians to jump out of her way. By the end of the journey, Bella was reciting the 'Hail Mary' in her head, as she didn't expect to get out of the car alive.

"Home!" Angela announced, as she made a sharp turn onto a gravel driveway, shooting loose stones in all directions. The car shuddered to a halt and Bella wanted to cry out in relief, but what stopped her was the sight of the beautiful, double-fronted, thatched cottage that was directly in front of her.

The cottage had pristine white walls, decorated with black, irregular shaped, wooden beams. Red and pink roses clambered across the front of the house, and a heavy thatch of gold reeds rested on top of the arched upper floor windows. Summer flowers tumbled out of window boxes and the oak front door was almost completely shrouded by hanging baskets, dripping with lobelia and geraniums.

Bella sat in the car with her mouth open, taking in every detail of the house. It was so pretty and quaint, she fully expected the front door to open, and Snow White to be there to greet them. Angela could tell she was impressed; she always got a huge buzz when visitors came to her home for the first time, and remarked on how lovely the house was.

"It was built in 1570, when the first Queen Elizabeth was on the throne, Isabella, and when your William was alive. Can you imagine what this place has seen over the years?"

Bella shook her head and got out of the car slowly, not taking her eyes off the house, which was called Michaelmas Cottage. It was truly the most beautiful house she had ever seen, and she couldn't wait to see what it was like inside.

She picked up her overnight bag, and followed Angela through the ancient door and immediately had to duck to avoid a low beam, even though she was only five feet four inches tall herself. The small entrance hall led on one side to a large open-plan living area with low beamed ceilings, which had comfy armchairs surrounding an inglenook fireplace at one end and a kitchen overlooking the garden at the other. On the opposite side of the hallway was a more formal living room which led to Angela's study.

Bella wandered through to the kitchen at the back of the house, and peered out through the leaded windows onto a stunning English garden, full of hollyhocks, lupins and gladioli on one side, and roses and hydrangeas on the other. At the end of the lawn, the boundary was concealed by an orchard of various fruit trees that surrounded an old, wooden, summer house.

"What are you thinking?" Angela asked, as Bella hadn't said a word since she came in through the front door.

Bella turned to Angela and replied, "This house is almost _too_ English. It's like a Disney-version of days gone by, and I've been transported back in time to a world that's disappeared and now only found in fairy tales. I'm almost expecting Shakespeare to come through the door, smoking his long pipe."

Angela laughed and went over to the sink to fill the kettle.

"Maybe he did once upon a time, we'll never know. I do know he visited this part of the world several times. The University was founded in 1209, so maybe he came to one of the colleges to talk about his plays. Anyway, let's carry on with the English theme and have a nice cup of tea and a few biscuits, and then you can tell me why you've scarpered from London in such a hurry, and why you're not with Edward. He couldn't take his eyes off you at dinner the other night, and I think the feeling was reciprocated."

Bella's eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped.

"Angela, for someone who's only known me for five minutes, you're pretty astute."

"Possibly, but you would have to be blind not to spot the chemistry between the two of you in the restaurant last Friday; you could almost feel the electricity in the air, even more so than what was going on between Alice and the other young man."

Angela pulled a chair out and beckoned to Bella to sit at the kitchen table, then sat down opposite her as the kettle boiled.

"Isabella, if I was as young and beautiful as you are, with a gorgeous man like Edward practically on his knees trying to seduce me, I wouldn't be over fifty miles away, keeping an old spinster company. I would be in his bed, with my legs wrapped around him, taking everything that was on offer. Life is short, Isabella, and so is the time when you have the energy to love passionately, that is even shorter. So don't waste your youth; grab every opportunity you can to experience love; whether it is true, everlasting love, or fleeting, overpowering, passionate, short-term love; relish being worshiped and adored while you can."

Bella shook her head and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

"I know what you're saying, but I can't jeopardize my career, Angela. I've worked so hard to get where I am today, and I need to focus on that while I'm in England. This has all happened at the wrong time for me; having a lover will not fit in with my life."

Angela grasped hold of her hands across the table.

"Look at me, Isabella. I'm a Professor in one of the greatest Universities in the world, and also a highly successful author, so I'm effectively at the top of both my professions. I have two beautiful homes, here and in London, and more money than I know what to do with, but I haven't woken up next to man in years, and have no family of my own.

"I had short term boyfriends when I was a student, so I'm not a virgin, but I put my degree and research before everything. Then academic life took over, and very quickly it was too late. I never found love, but that was because I never sought it, or recognized it when it was there for me to pick up and run with. Your career is important, yes, but your relationships must come first above everything."

Bella saw the earnest expression in Angela's eyes, and knew that she meant every word. She had a fleeting vision of Angela as a student, with men flocking around her, trying to catch her eye. But those men had given up calling a long time ago, and now Angela lived alone. Was she doing the same to Edward, and if so, how long would he wait for her?

"I don't know what to do, Angela; the whole situation is crazy as I've only known him for a week. I've never felt like this before about anyone, even my previous fiancé. He's filling my every waking thought."

Bella wiped away tears that were now flowing freely from her eyes.

"I can't give in to this now as he's distracting me from my work, and the next three months will have an influence on my career for the rest of my life; I can't do it."

"Why can't you have both, a career and a lover; other people can do it?"

"I tried that before with David, but men are dominating, and my career always took second place to his, which is why we finished. I can't compromise again; not until I'm firmly established and accepted as a Shakespearean actor. It's what I've always wanted, ever since my grandmother took me to see _As You Like It._ I'm doing this for her, as well as myself."

"Not all men are the same, Isabella. Edward might be totally different; he might respect your career and not be demanding. You don't know him well enough to judge him yet."

Bella shook her head and wiped another tear away from her eye.

"Does he feel the same for you?" Angela asked.

"I think so. He was so wonderful to me last night; so loving and caring. I couldn't imagine being with anyone better."

"Do you mean you've already slept with him?"

Bella nodded her head and waited for Angela's reaction, but she remained silent.

"Last night I was in his bed, with my legs wrapped around him, and it was...magical," she whispered. She felt Angela's hands grip hers, just that little bit more tightly, and then she let go.

Bella looked down at her fingers, remembering how she slid them through his hair after he had come inside her. She recalled the incredible sensation of being intimately joined to him; a feeling she hoped she would never forget. The recollection made her blush, and Angela knew she was re-living the events of last night.

"He took me to a place where I've never been before, Angela, and I think I fell in love with him there. I don't know if what I'm feeling is true, everlasting love, or whether sleeping with him has skewed my feelings, but it broke my heart to leave him this morning. I left him a note as though nothing had happened, as I was too scared to put my feelings down on paper. I just hope he doesn't think less of me for not being able to face him."

"So, you didn't actually need my advice then?"

"No, Angela; I needed separation from him, so that I could think clearly, and I needed to talk to someone who was detached from the situation."

Angela got up to make the tea while Bella put her head in her hands.

"Have I done the right thing, running away from him?" she asked herself, not for the first time.

She closed her eyes, and tried to focus on anything but Edward, but the only image that was slowly branding itself on her memory was the look of pure desire for her that was on Edward's face as they were making love. She felt a knot tightening in her stomach as she realized, too late, that she should have stayed in London, in his bed and in his arms."

"God, I've been such a fool, haven't I, Angela?"

Angela nodded her head as she poured the boiling hot water into the teapot, then covered it with a tea cosy.

* * *

Jasper's phone beeped, indicating that he had a text message. He flipped his phone open and said, "She's on her way up."

Edward stood and stretched and went in his bedroom for a moment, and was settling himself down in his chair again, as Jasper opened the door.

Alice bounded in, with a new hair cut and color, which explained where she was this morning, and flung her arms around Jasper, giving him a full-on kiss on the lips, then trilled, "Hi, Edward," and launched herself onto the sofa. She looked at Jasper, then at Edward, and realized neither of them had responded with a greeting, and the looks on their faces indicated that something was very wrong.

"Has someone died?" she asked with a puzzled expression on her face.

Edward didn't say anything; he just picked up the hairbrush from the coffee table and twirled it around in his fingers.

"Oh shit!" she said, and Edward's eyes widened, then narrowed accusingly.

"I can explain," she stuttered, looking backwards and forwards from Edward to Jasper.

"Well," Edward responded, "I for one can't wait to hear what your explanation is, because believe me, Alice Brandon, at this particular moment, I'm mad as fucking hell!"

* * *

**A/N**

**Oh my God! What has she done? Will Edward be able to restrain himself from throttling Alice? **

**And Bella has finally realized she's a first class idiot! (We could have told her that ages ago, couldn't we girls)?**

**If you are enjoying the story - ****please let me know xx**

**Joan xx**


	17. Chapter 17

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Anger, Auras and Analysis**

* * *

"It's not what you think," Alice mumbled.

Jasper had sat down next to her, but he wasn't holding her hand. He was staring hard at the face of the girl he believed he was falling in love with, and who he thought he knew. He could tell Edward was having difficulty restraining himself, as his knuckles were white where he was gripping the hairbrush with one hand, and the armchair with the other. Jasper fully accepted that if Alice had been a guy, she would have been on her way to the Emergency Room by now.

"So, what do you think I'm thinking then, Alice? Tell me, I'm all ears!" Edward spat the words out with as much sarcasm as he could inject into the sentence.

"I haven't cast a spell on you, Edward, if that's what you're thinking, and I haven't lied to you."

"Bullshit!"

Jasper jumped in. "Edward, listen to what Alice has to say before you say any more. If she says she hasn't cast a spell on you, then I believe her."

"Okay, Alice, let's get to the point then. Since I met you, I've been having vivid dreams that have seriously affected my life, and it's too much of a coincidence that they started after I met you. So I want to know whether you have anything to do with them; simple answer, yes or no?"

Alice looked at Jasper, then looked at Edward, and mumbled a response that neither of them could hear.

"What did you say?" Edward hissed.

"I said...yes," Alice whispered.

Jasper recoiled from her, and Edward stood up and advanced towards her menacingly. Jasper jumped in front of him, grateful that a coffee table was separating him from Alice, and put his hands on his chest to stop him going any further.

"Sit down, Edward; don't do anything you might regret. I'm angry too, but I want to hear what she's got to say first before I pass judgement."

"Angry? You don't know the meaning of the fucking word, Jasper. You have no idea what I've been through since your girlfriend fucked with my brain; angry doesn't even cover it."

"Okay, I realize that, but aggression and threats aren't going to help here. All you'll do is frighten her, and we won't get to the bottom of what's happened."

Edward stepped backwards and Jasper's hands dropped from his chest. Alice had been holding her breath, and both men heard her exhale when Edward turned and went back to his chair.

Edward's incensed eyes were fixed on Alice, who couldn't look at him in the face. Her hands were shaking slightly as she clenched them together on her lap. Jasper appointed himself as referee and spoke up.

"I think we need to go back to the beginning. So, Alice, the floor is yours. Edward and I need an explanation, so you can speak now. Edward, I don't want you to interrupt her for the next few minutes. Agreed?"

Edward nodded without taking his eyes from Alice's face.

Alice cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. After a few moments of hesitation, she started speaking.

"When you first came into the Green Room at the BBC, Edward, you were smiling, but the aura surrounding you..."

"What's a fucking aura?" Edward spat.

"Don't interrupt, Edward," Jasper said.

"I don't know what an aura is; what the hell is she talking about?"

Alice nodded at Jasper, indicating that Edward's interruption was reasonable, and carried on talking.

"The human body gives off energy that I have been trained to see and interpret. The aura manifests itself in different colors that linger around the body, and they indicate a person's mood, their attitude to life, their happiness or otherwise; in fact lots of things about their personality and how they are feeling at that moment.

"When I first saw you, entering the Green Room, Edward, the aura surrounding you was probably the most disturbing one I had ever seen. You were tense, angry, hostile, frustrated, but most of all you were very unhappy, even though your face was trying to tell a different story. I watched you as you went to the bar, and your body language also told a similar tale, that here was one very disturbed young man."

Edward went to say something, but Jasper held his hand up to stop him, as he agreed with everything that Alice had said up to this point.

"I watched as you walked towards one of the sofas with your drink, but then you went out of my eye-line. I must admit I was more interested in what Jasper was saying to me at this point, as his aura was telling me a very interesting tale."

Jasper smiled at the memory of how he felt when he first laid eyes on Alice, and how he was instantly attracted to her. Alice smiled back, as she had also felt the same for him.

"When you approached me several minutes later, with Bella, your aura had changed quite dramatically. The tension had almost gone, and your colors were becoming warmer. But the deep-seated aggression in your personality was still the overriding color surrounding you. I must admit I was fascinated why such a handsome and successful young man had so much angst in his soul, and why he was so angry with the world around him."

Edward wanted to interrupt her, to contradict her analysis of his personality, but he knew deep down she was right. Even though he 'had everything', as far as wealth and possessions were concerned, his personal life was a barren desert, where no life existed.

Since landing in England, and becoming close to Bella, he had started to accept how deeply unhappy his life had been up to that point, both professionally and personally. He had been in denial of this all his adult life, as he had convinced himself he was happy to keep the people he worked with, and the women he had sex with, at arms length. Now Alice was putting into words what he already knew in his heart; that he was a loner, incapable of having a relationship, but she didn't know the reason why he chose to live as a social recluse.

He had treated most people he came into contact with like dirt, so they kept their distance from him. Now he was able to look back at 'the other Edward' with horror and disgust. How his colleagues and acquaintances had tolerated him in the past was a mystery, and why someone hadn't lost their cool with him by now, and taken him into a darkened room to beat the shit out of him, was a miracle.

Alice continued.

"When I met Bella, her aura gave me lots of information about her personality, which of course I'm not divulging here, as it is between me and her. I could tell that she was attracted to you, Edward, and frankly, I couldn't understand why. I would have never in a million years put you two together, as your colors were complete opposites.

"I immediately took to Bella and she to me, and she confided she had met you on the flight over, and couldn't understand why she was drawn to you. We both agreed that possibly your aggressiveness was a front for your unhappiness, and underneath that ice cold, rock hard shell, there could be a soul that was redeemable. Bella has empathy for others flowing in her bloodstream, and I believe she could sense that there was another Edward behind the hostile facade."

Edward's posture had changed while Alice was talking. From sitting in a confrontational manner, with his legs apart, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clenched together; he had relaxed back into his chair, with his right calf across his left knee, one elbow resting on the chair arm, and his cupped hand underneath his chin.

Alice had noticed this and had also relaxed somewhat, but she still chose her words carefully as she knew Edward was not going to like the next part of her explanation.

"Because Bella was attracted to you, and I'm a sucker for a bit of romance, I decided that if I could, I would help if at all possible, but at that point I didn't know how. Events quickly took over and within a few minutes we were waiting to be called into the studio, and you made your first disparaging remarks about my lifestyle, and I must admit I was shocked at how rude you were."

Edward ran his hands over his eyes, as though he was trying to distance himself from the feeling of embarrassment at the memory. He knew he had been obnoxious, but it was partly due to the shock of being in the presence of someone who declared themselves to be a witch, which was not an everyday occurrence!

"As Graham interviewed each one of us, your arrogance was frankly upsetting to both Bella and I, and your dismissal of the analysis of dreams and fantasies was too much. I can understand that people don't want to believe in witchcraft, but dreams have been studied for centuries, and by many eminent psychologists, Freud for instance, and I was angry, which is a rare occurrence for me. I decided then you were in desperate need of help and I resolved to do something for you, if I got the chance, which is what I did."

Edward sat bolt upright. "What do you mean, 'do something _for_ me'?"

"I felt sorry for you, Edward. Something must have happened to you in your past to make you behave the way you did, and, in my opinion, you were crying out for help. Your rock hard shell was certainly protecting you from being hurt again, but as a consequence, that shell was also stopping any emotions, like kindness, empathy, understanding, tolerance and trust filtering through into your personality."

Edward slumped back in his chair, aghast that Alice was so perceptive about his life up until now. He knew what she was alluding to, but he wasn't going to disclose this to her or Jasper. This wasn't the time or place to talk about his past; he would let her carry on speaking, as they were now getting to what she had done to him.

"When there was a break in filming, while the band were taking their places and getting ready to perform, I spoke quickly to Bella and told her what I was going to attempt to do. She wasn't too happy about it, but accepted that you needed help desperately, and if I could do something to crack your shell, then it would be worth trying."

"So what did you do?" Jasper asked, before Edward had a chance to.

"Give me your hands, Edward."

Edward leaned forward over the coffee table that separated them, and Alice took hold of his right hand and turned it so the palm was facing upward.

"All over our bodies there are pressure points, that if touched and manipulated can have an effect on another part of the body. This is a medical fact, and it's how acupuncturists can stick a needle in your neck and you can't feel your big toe for instance. Reflexologists also use pressure points, and your hands have more of them per square inch than practically any other part of your body, except for your feet. Hypnotists use pressure points as well."

"Did you hypnotise me, Alice?" Edward asked, slightly aggressively.

"Yes, well, sort of. I would call it more of a suggestion I made to you while you were in a very suggestive state."

"What do you mean?"

"Can you recall I took your hand, when we were sitting on Graham's sofa waiting for the band?"

"Vaguely, yes."

"Can you remember anything after that?"

"No, not really. I remember you moving my hand from the back of the sofa, then the music started."

"See this area here," Alice pointed to a spot on his palm. "If I put pressure on this point now and work on it, you would relax and become suggestible. It's like being hypnotized. Admittedly, it doesn't work on everyone, but it worked straight away on you, and you were open to suggestion, so I whispered something in your ear."

Edward was starting to look agitated again, but was determined to remain calm in front of Jasper, who was watching him closely in case he blew a fuse.

"What did you say to me, Alice?"

"I suggested to you that every night you would you dream about someone you had met that day. You would anticipate how that person perceived you, and how they would interact with you if they had the power to affect your life. Of course, I didn't know how much your own ego would influence your dreams, I had no control over that; but after a few nights of experiencing what you thought were other people's fantasies about you, I wanted you to start analyzing the people around you during your waking hours, and try to imagine what their perception of you was. If it was hostile or negative, then hopefully you would change your pattern of behavior to avoid having a bad experience at night."

"Are you serious?" Edward spluttered. "What the hell gave you the right to try and change my personality without my permission?"

"Because you were fucking rude and offensive, that's why," Alice retorted defensively. "You tried to ridicule me in front of millions of people, but luckily for you, the editors cut out your more crass comments and you didn't look like a complete dick when the program was aired!"

Edward slumped back in his chair, stunned that Alice could be so frank to his face about his attitude and behavior. He was not used to being verbally assaulted by anyone, apart from Jasper, and that was only when he occasionally pushed his buttons just a bit too far.

Alice softened her voice before she continued.

"Also, Bella saw something in you that intrigued her; God knows what though! Also, my own belief is that every soul is redeemable, even ones that are as damaged and broken as yours."

"So all the dreams were my own fantasies all along?"

"Of course, Edward. No-one can have access to your brain; that's impossible."

Edward contemplated what she had said. He was still confused, but his initial reaction was relief that no outside party had been able to have access to his subconscious. He was still angry that she had put him through this, whether he deserved it or not, but he accepted he had changed since he met her, but was more inclined to give the credit for that to Bella, or Jasper even. Whether she had used witchcraft or had hypnotized him was now irrelevant; the outcome was that he had been coerced into confronting the affect his arrogance and intimidating manner had on the people who entered his personal and professional life.

He thought back over the dreams, and what he imagined Tanya, George, Jessica, Bree and Roger's perception of him was, and why he had invented the scenarios that went with that particular individual. However it was all too much for him to absorb immediately and his mind wasn't thinking straight. He still couldn't believe his own subconscious was solely responsible for these dreams and fantasies, whatever Alice said.

Alice was watching carefully for his reaction, as he tried to take in her 'confession'. After a few moments she asked, "Do you want me to analyse your dreams for you?"

"No, yes, no, yes...I don't know. I don't know what to fucking think now. I feel like I want to report you to someone, Alice. Do hypnotists have a governing body, like the Magic Circle, as I'm mad as hell that you've done this to me. You have no idea how much I suffered last night."

"Last night? I thought you were with Bella last night?"

"I was and I wasn't. I don't want to talk about it, but I'm still fucking hurting, don't you understand. You have no idea what I've been through."

"Well, why don't you tell me about your dreams, and then maybe things will be a bit clearer then."

Edward huffed and twisted in his chair so she couldn't see the expression on his face. He didn't want to rake up memories of the dreams, but a tiny part of him was intrigued to hear how Alice would interpret them.

Jasper was looking a bit shell-shocked. He had just found out that on top of being a witch, his girlfriend also saw auras, and was into reflexology and hypnotism. He wondered what else he didn't know about her.

Edward spoke up again. "So, what's the story with the hairbrush then, and how did you get into my dressing room?"

"Oh that; that was payback, pure and simple!" Alice chuckled to herself.

"I wanted you to genuinely believe that I'd cast a spell on you, because you'd been so bloody rude and dismissive about my lifestyle. I had no intention of using the hairbrush; even though I could have. Bella was going to confront you after the show anyway, as she was seething when we left the studio. Your dressing room was already open, as the doors operate on a time lock, so I didn't even have to say _Abracadabra_ to open it. I sneaked in when you and Bella were arguing and grabbed the first thing I saw. Admit it, Edward, it worked, didn't it? You really believed I'd cast a spell on you, so consider us even."

Edward actually saw the funny side of this, as he probably would have done the same thing if the boot was on the other foot, but he didn't let Alice know he was amused, as he had been through a lot of grief.

Just then, Jasper's phone rang, and he flipped it open to see who was calling.

"I've got to answer this," he muttered, and walked across to the window before answering the call. Edward could hear him apologizing, saying that "Edward was also very sorry he couldn't attend, but he was dealing with a crisis in his personal life, and that's all he could say."

Edward did feel guilty about once again dropping Jasper in it, leaving him to take all the flack, but this time the excuse was genuine, as he wasn't in any fit state to be charming and sociable."

Jasper finished the call and came back to where they were sitting.

"I'm going to have to disappear," he said. "I've got a lot of work to do, so, I'm going to have to trust you, Edward, not to damage my girlfriend in any way."

"Am I still your girlfriend, Jasper?" Alice asked, jumping up and putting her arms around his neck.

"For the time being, yes! But you're on a final warning, so don't ever do anything like this again."

Jasper went to leave, but he turned to face Edward.

"A1 condition, remember; I'll be back in an hour to check."

Edward nodded, and Jasper left the room, leaving Alice and Edward together, facing each other over the coffee table.

"Okay, Edward. It's just you and me now. Tell me about your first dream!"

* * *

"Oh Lord, I'm so drunk," Bella slurred, as she tried to roll out of one of Angela's comfy armchairs.

It was almost eleven at night, and over the past four hours, they had devoured home made Lasagna, garlic bread, Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream (a whole tub between them), three bottles of wine and an entire box of chocolates. They finished with coffee and Baileys liqueur.

"I feel sick," Angela mumbled, as she crawled on her hands and knees towards the stairs. "Leave everything; we'll clear up tomorrow morning, before we go to the station."

They had decided to go back to London together. Angela had a ticket for the opening night, but didn't have to be at the theater until six, when there was a reception being held for special guests, of which she was one. Bella had to be in the theater by four, for final costume fittings and last minute checks, and the curtain was due to go up at seven thirty.

After lunch, Angela had invited Bella to read parts of the almost-complete manuscript of her latest novel that was set in Britain and America in the 1930's. It was a tale of two widows living on opposite sides of the Atlantic, who had lost their husbands in the first World War, and who had struggled to bring their families up on their own, only to see their sons conscripted into the army, as war was once again brewing in Europe and the Far East. It was a heartbreaking tale, and Bella was moved by the hardships these women had to endure, over and above knowing their husbands died unnecessarily in the trenches in Belgium, through being used as cannon fodder by incompetent generals.

Angela showed her details of the research she had carried out to ensure the story was factually accurate, but luckily this time there was a wealth of resources for her to use, and the job had not been as difficult as researching for some of her other novels.

They had spent the evening talking about everything, from books they had read, plays they had seen, countries Angela had traveled to, men they had been in relationships with, and life in general.

Bella asked Angela how old she was, and she admitted to being 'about fifty', which was the same age as her mother, but Bella couldn't ever recall having such a long and interesting conversation with her mother, as frankly they had very little in common. Bella told Angela about her grandmother, and how she would take her to the theater whenever she visited, and Bella got quite emotional when she told Angela how much she missed her.

"So, what are you going to do about Edward tomorrow?" Angela asked. They had just made a pot of black coffee to sober themselves up, but of course decided to pour Bailey's into their cups instead of cream!

"I'm not going to do anything," Bella responded ruefully. "He's going back to LA tomorrow, so there's no point having another tearful goodbye. If he contacts me during the London and Stratford runs then I'll be thrilled, but I'll leave it up to him to get in contact. He knows where I'll be for the next three months; he could be anywhere in the world during that time, as far as I know."

"Do you think he'll try to contact you?"

"I don't know. I'm sure when he gets home there'll be lots of girls around to help him forget about me, so I'm not holding out a lot of hope.

"Well, I suppose you've still got the lovely David to fall back on if needs be!"

"No, Angela! I can't believe I ever contemplated having a future with that man; in fact I can't believe I slept with him either. What the hell must I have been thinking?"

Angela laughed. "Did he have any redeeming qualities at all; I mean, was he good in bed?"

Bella's hands covered her face when she recalled the sexual experiences she had with David, and she shrieked out loud.

"That bad was it?" Angela chortled.

"Yes it was; in fact when I look back, I cringe. Do you know he always wanted to do it in front of a mirror, and it was only after a while of him doing this, I realized he wasn't looking at me in the mirror, he was looking at himself!"

"Ewwww," Angela shrieked. The Bailey's was hitting the spot right about now, so tongues were being freed up and dirt was being dished.

"I've got a good story," Angela giggled, and knocked back another Bailey's with a dash of coffee. One guy I went out with occasionally wanted to blindfold me when we had sex. Kinky I thought; I'll go along with that."

"Did he tie your hands up as well?" Bella slurred. She was just starting to feel sleepy, but suddenly became very interested.

"No, just the blindfold. Anyway, one night I felt something behind my head as he was shagging me, and I was instantly suspicious. So I tore the blindfold off as he blew his load, and he was staring at a picture of Farah Fawcett while he was screwing me!"

Bella screamed out laughing, and tears were rolling down her face as she imagined the scene.

"What did you do?" she spluttered.

"I kneed him hard in the balls, then screwed up the picture of the lovely Farah, and inserted it into his rectum, while he was curled up in a ball, crying like a baby."

Bella could hardly breathe from laughing, but managed to compose herself after a while.

"I admit to imagining being shagged by Ryan Gosling or someone like him, just to liven things up when a relationship is starting to go a bit stale."

"Oh yes, I've done that; my top three are Robert Redford, Paul Newman and Steve McQueen – yummy."

"Only one of them still alive though, unfortunately."

"Yeah, but still fuck-hot, even at his age."

After more memories of past lovers were shared, accompanied by howls of laughter making their sides ache, that was when Bella realized she couldn't get out of her chair, and Angela ended up on her hands and knees. But eventually, they both made it upstairs and into bed.

When she woke the next morning, Bella felt like death. She crawled out of the gloriously comfy bed and tried to stand up, but the room was spinning and she fell backwards onto the bed again and lay there, as stars danced in front of her eyes.

"Oh my Holy God," she thought. "What a fucking stupid thing to do. I've got to do the performance of my life tonight and I feel like shit. I'll never, ever, drink again."

Just then Angela burst into the room with a large glass of ice cold water and some tablets.

"Drink this, Katherina, then get in the shower and I'll see you downstairs for a hearty English fry-up. That'll cure the hangover, no problem."

Bella thought she was going to be sick at the thought of greasy bacon and fried eggs, but she took the tablets with the glass of water, then staggered into the shower room and stood under the cleansing torrent, as the smell of bacon wafted up the stairs.

She could hear Angela singing in the kitchen, apparently none the worse from their drinking session last night, and wondered how she did it. However, no matter how sober Angela appeared to be, there was no way she was getting in her car again; she was taking a taxi to the station, even if Angela insisted on driving herself.

A few hours later their taxi arrived, and Bella stepped out of the cottage, guessing that Edward was probably already on his way to the airport, so she wouldn't see him again. Her phone was dead, as she forgot to pack the charger, so she couldn't even call him to wish him a safe journey.

She knew she'd been a fool, and hoped that she wouldn't live to regret her decision to leave London, but it was done now, and she had to focus on tonight. Angela locked up and joined her on the back seat of the taxi, and as the vehicle started to move, she grabbed Bella by the hand.

"Just think, Bella, in twelve hours time you'll be the talk of the town, and London won't know what's hit it!"

Bella smiled at Angela's encouraging words, but if she could roll back time, it would have been Edward giving her the team talk, preferably while he was making love to her for the last time that morning, before taking her to the theater.

"You stupid, stupid idiot," she told herself again, as the taxi turned out of the drive and onto the main road, and as it gathered speed, Michaelmas Cottage, her unnecessary place of sanctuary, slowly disappeared from view.

After an uneventful and sedate journey, they arrived at Cambridge station in time for the London train. As she settled into her seat, the train lurched into life, and slowly moved away from the platform. At that precise moment, Bella knew for certain she was in love with Edward, and her life would never be the same until he was back in her arms.

* * *

A/N

**Firstly, I apologise for not answering every review last week. As you know, I was away, and then straight back to work on Thursday, so I only had time to answer some of them. **

**Do you think Edward will be waiting for Bella at the theater? Let's see what state he's in after Alice has analyzed his dreams and we find out why he is so unhappy. **

**Another roller coaster ride in the next chapter, so hit that 'next' button and strap yourself in, as it might be scarier than Angela's driving!**

**Joan xx**


	18. Chapter 18

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – Dreams, Disclosures and Despair**

* * *

Two chapters uploaded this week - **read chapter 17 first !**

* * *

"Before we start, can I have a drink," Alice asked.

Edward stood up and went to the bar and got two bottles of water out of the fridge.

"Is water okay, or would you suggest we need something stronger?"

"Water's fine, Edward; just relax will you. Nothing awful is going to happen."

"Huh!" Edward grunted, as he sat down again and chugged about half of his bottle.

"Right, let's talk about your first dream; what was that about."

"Hang on. Before we do this, tell me why I didn't have a dream on the night I met you? I didn't have my first 'nightmare' until the following night."

"How did you sleep that night," Alice asked.

"Terribly; I was still jet lagged, my shin hurt like hell after Bella attacked me, and ..."

"And what?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about her."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"I think so; I felt like shit the next morning, but I guess I had a couple of hours."

"You probably didn't sleep deeply enough to dream. Have there been any other times that you haven't dreamed."

"Well, I had a very short dream after a photo shoot, but was woken up by the phone, thank God, but didn't dream after that."

"Okay, well we'll talk about that later. So, tell me about the first proper dream."

Edward thought about how to broach this, without sounding dismissive of older women, so chose his words carefully.

"Well, umm, earlier in the day I was introduced to this woman, who was sort-of related to my director. I had to sit next to her at the premiere. She was quite a bit older than me, and she propositioned me several times, which I declined. I had to be quite firm in the end. That night, I had a vivid dream that we had sex, but the worst thing was, I was acting like I was really into her, and she was not my type at all."

Alice thought about what he had said.

"Why did you first of all describe this dream as a 'nightmare' a few minutes ago. Most men fantasize about having sex with an older, more experienced woman, like _Mrs. Robinson_ for instance. What was the problem?"

"I just felt repulsed by it, I suppose."

Alice mulled over what he had said.

"Edward, you went to sleep imagining what this woman would do to you, and what her body would feel like if she got you into bed. Have you ever slept with an older woman before?"

"Not one as old as her! I've slept with girls who were five or six years older than me, but I don't think I've ever slept with anyone older than, err, I don't know, thirty? I've never slept with anyone who's had a baby by the way."

"So this lady came on to you, and you imagined what it would be like to have sex with a woman who was not, to put it delicately, in as good shape in all parts of her body as you were used to. Is that it?"

"Yes, I suppose so. I know that's shallow of me, but it was the fact that I was participating so enthusiastically in the sex that got to me the most. Why was that?"

"I suppose sub-consciously she had massaged your ego during the evening. Was she attractive?"

"Yes, I mean she didn't look her age, she was very slim and well-preserved, but not my type."

"You're still a guy though, and flattered by the attentions of an attractive older woman."

"But she was probably in her mid-forties."

"Cameron Diaz is in her forties. If she propositioned you, would you?"

"Fuck, yeah!" Edward responded without hesitation.

"I rest my case then."

Edward took another drink from his bottle and thought about what he had said to Tanya, about preferring to shag Emmett rather than her. He now recognized what a truly nasty and hurtful thing that was to say to a woman, who was only trying to show him that she fancied him. She probably skipped the after-show party that she had been looking forward to for a long time, because she was devastated at being spoken to like that. He suddenly felt mortified at his behavior, and resolved to send her some flowers with an apology.

Alice watched him contemplating their discussion, and she could tell that he was going over the events of that day. His ego had been inflated by this woman, even though he wasn't attracted to her, and he had presumed she would be fantasizing about him that night. Instead, he was the one who had the fantasy, even though he didn't like it.

Alice broke his musings. "Right, dream number two; was that a sex one as well?"

"No, it was a young boy of about eight who wanted to kill me."

"Jesus, that's bizarre; tell me what happened."

Edward told her about the Stepford Mothers, and the angry little boy at the stage school. Then he related the dream about being tied up and threatened.

"So the dream was all about sex and you again?" Alice said.

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"Well, you've just told me that all the mothers in the room were lusting after you, which is frankly ridiculous, and that the little boy's mum was probably in love with you, and that was what his problem was. "

"I suppose so."

"Did you ask why he was upset when you were at the school?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know; I didn't really get the opportunity."

"So you imagined his mother was spending her time fan-girling over you, instead of playing with him, which was why he was so angry. Maybe he just didn't want to be at a sissy stage school?"

"Possibly; I suppose I'll never know."

"Was the mother 'your type'?"

Edward nodded, feeling contrite that once again he'd been unforgivably shallow.

"How did you feel when you woke up; be honest now?"

"Relieved that the boy hadn't shot me, I suppose."

"What about the mother?"

"Well, a bit sorry that I didn't have a little action with her." Edward laughed.

"But you dreamt she was married with a child, and her husband was away in the army, defending freedom, putting his life on the line for you and me?"

"It was just a dream, Alice. I bet the boy's dad was a banker or a doctor, something like that."

"Yes, probably, but you dreamed he was away. You actually gave him a profession where you could guarantee that you wouldn't have to jump in the wardrobe if he came home from the office a bit earlier than usual. Your sub-conscious mind was astute enough to work out that scenario, and if you hadn't been woken up, I assure you mum would have stopped George in time from shooting you, and you would have got an apologetic shag at the end of it. Do you think you would have felt guilty after that, Edward?"

"I honestly don't know. I've never had sex with a married woman, as far as I'm aware. I've had sex with girls who had regular boyfriends, and one girl who was engaged."

"How do you feel about that now?"

Edward thought about it. "Disgusted with myself."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Okay, dream number three."

Edward burst out laughing. "This one was really funny; it was so crass I'm surprised I wasn't laughing in my sleep."

Edward related the 'Knight in Shining Armour' story, and Alice laughed along with him as he related some of the cheesier parts of the tale, and that Mike Newton's girlfriend was the 'Lady' who needed rescuing.

Alice thought long about this one.

"You must have had a pretty low opinion of Jessica that evening. Why was that?"

"Well she didn't say much all night; she just sat there with her mouth open, like a goldfish."

"Did you talk to her at all?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I had nothing to say to her I suppose."

"So you talked to Mike who is a producer, who was worth talking to; you talked to Angela the writer, who was worth talking to; Bella, obviously, and me and Jasper of course, but not Jessica?"

"No."

"And you presumed once again that she fancied you."

"Well she seemed a bit star-struck."

"Edward, she's met loads of movie stars; she's been living with Mike for years. I spoke to her during the evening, and the reason she was sitting there with her mouth open, was that about an hour before we met up, her doctor told her she was expecting twins. Up until that afternoon, she didn't even know she was pregnant."

"Why didn't she announce it when Emily said she was pregnant then?"

"She hadn't told anybody yet, apart from Mike."

"Why did she tell you?"

"She didn't. I saw it in her aura. I can spot a pregnant woman from across a room. It's one of the easiest auras to read. I told her what I saw, and she confirmed it."

"So, she didn't fancy me?"

"No, she was in a state of shock; not star struck."

"Oh."

"Also, her professional name is Jessica Stanley, the famous fashion designer to the filthy rich."

"Shit, really?"

"So, because she didn't speak, you presumed she was dense, and dreamed up a crass story to go with your perception of the limits of her brain. Plus, your ego was telling you she was in to you. God, Edward, you really are a piece of work."

Edward sat there looking pretty shocked. He knew he categorized people based on their clothes, their jobs, the way they spoke; but he'd got it seriously wrong this time.

"Don't worry, Edward; you'll be able to make amends. You'll be seeing a lot of her again soon."

"How come?"

"She's designing the clothes for your movie!"

Edward put his head in his hands. He realized now he had blanked Jessica as not worth talking to. Jasper had spoken to him about this habit, and he wondered whether he had noticed him doing this to Jessica that evening, which is why he spoke to him about it before the Vogue photo-shoot. At least he had stopped doing that now.

"Before we go onto the next one, Edward, can you remember how were you feeling about having such vivid dreams at this point?"

"I was a bit shocked, and I must admit I was not looking forward to being asleep. Actually, Alice, I forgot to mention something. Can you explain to me why I woke up from the first dream with a hickey on my butt, then from the second dream with rope marks on my ankles and wrists, and from the third dream with aching muscles; like I'd been in the saddle all day?"

"Really?"

"Yes, and that was one of the main reasons I thought you'd cast a spell on me. I thought I was going mad."

Alice shook her head. "I can't really explain that phenomena at all. I suppose the mark on your bum could have been there all the time, and you convinced yourself it was a hickey. The rope marks could have been where you were rubbing your wrists and ankles together in your sleep while you were trying to escape from George."

Edward interrupted. "Jasper did say he thought I was having a seizure when he woke me up; he said my hands were behind my back and my ankles were crossed."

"I don't know about the muscles though; the pain might have been psychosomatic."

"What's that?"

"Well, you had already convinced yourself that you had physical evidence that your previous two dreams were 'real', so maybe when you woke up from this one, you were expecting to be saddle-sore, and your brain told you that you were? It's a phenomenon well known in the medical profession, especially with amputees who can still feel a leg, for instance, after it has been removed."

Edward shook his head. "I was in a lot of pain; I had to get a masseur to sort my legs out, I was aching so much, but that's another story!"

"So, tell me about the next one."

Edward recalled the experience in the park with Bree or Sharon. "This one was totally different from the first three" he explained.

"In what way?"

"It was like real life; not fantasy at all. It was just a normal chat, with a normal girl, in a normal park, about normal things. I hadn't met her before, so there was no agenda. She was just a girl, sitting on the grass, between me and the lake. Also, there was no two-way dialogue between real-me and dream-me."

Edward related the whole story to Alice who was fascinated.

"That's a really nice story, Edward; you obviously watched this girl for a while before you nodded off, and dreamed up a scenario where you were going to help her escape from an unsatisfactory life. Empathy for people less fortunate than yourself was starting to filter through the chink in your armor. I think sub-consciously you were beginning to look at your own character with a more critical eye, and picked her to test out how it would feel to do a good deed for a change."

"Do you really think so?"

"It's a possibility."

"How did I know she was a nanny though?"

"Describe her to me."

"She was about nineteen or twenty years old."

"Stop there; how old were the children?"

"The boy was about five or six, and the little one was about two."

"I think that says it all, but describe her clothing."

"Shabby; her hair was quite untidy as well."

"What about the kids."

"They were well dressed - ah, I see where you're coming from."

"I don't think you'd have to be Sherlock Holmes to guess she was a nanny, just by those two descriptions."

"I suppose so."

"So, how did you feel after that daydream?"

"I was shocked again, but I must admit I felt quite elated that I'd tried to help this girl. I'd never done anything like that before, and I liked it."

Alice smiled. She could tell that Edward's mood had improved. His words weren't as confrontational as previously, and his body language was telling her that he was more relaxed. His shoulders weren't tensed up any more, and the vein that was evident on his forehead when he was angry, had almost disappeared, so Alice herself felt slightly safer in his presence.

"Right, on to the next one."

Edward cringed. "Oh my god, this one was totally unexpected, and I will be eternally grateful to Jasper for interrupting the dream about five minutes in."

"What happened?"

"The masseur; he had me tied to the bed like a starfish, and he was massaging my ass, while telling me what fantastic buttocks I had. He was naked by the way. I can't wait for you to explain that one to me?"

"Oh it's just 'me me me' again Edward. When he gave you the proper massage, did you pick up any vibes from him that he fancied you?"

"I suppose so, now I think about it. He did dress the room with mood lighting and dreamy music, and spoke to me while he was giving me the massage in the morning. I suppose he did make some suggestive comments, but I probably blanked him again and didn't really listen. His suggestions must have imprinted on my brain I guess."

Alice giggled like a schoolgirl. "You could put this dream in the same category as the first one I suppose. You presumed this guy wanted to have sex, and even though you didn't want to, your ego was massaged, along with your arse!"

Alice burst out laughing, and Edward also saw the funny side, and they had a bonding chuckle together. Edward stood up and got another two bottles of water out of the fridge and sat down again.

Alice took a long drink from the new bottle. Edward was doing well, better than she hoped, but she had to ask him whether he could see what the dreams were saying about him as a person.

"Edward, you have seen the pattern in all of your dreams, haven't you?"

"What pattern?"

"Apart from the one in the park, where that was all about making you feel like a generous benefactor, bestowing your good advice and contacts to a worthy cause; all the other dreams are about sex, and how you imagine everyone you meet wants to have a sexual encounter with you."

Edward thought about this for a moment before replying.

"Unfortunately, that is the story of my life, Alice. The majority of women I meet want to sleep with me, and I have just had to learn to accept that."

"Really?"

"Yes; I see it in their eyes."

"Did you see it in mine?"

"I didn't look; you were already with Jasper."

"Jessica's?"

"Yes."

"Even though she's in love with Mike, and she's just found out she's expecting his babies."

"Well, I thought I saw it."

How about Sue, the receptionist downstairs, for instance?"

"Definitely."

"Sue told me that her partner, who is the hotel's gym manager, loves my book and asked me to autograph a copy for her. Her partner's name is Samantha."

"Oh!"

"I think you're seeing signs that aren't there Edward, but I'm not sure whether it's from just having an inflated ego, or whether you are, without realizing it, constantly searching for opportunities for human contact. You are very handsome, and I accept you get more than your fair share of female admirers, but you do behave as though anyone in a skirt is ready to rip their clothes off and jump into bed with you, and your dreams have reflected this. I suspect there is something in your background that has affected your relationships with people, especially women."

Alice stopped talking, and thought about what she was going to say next. She wasn't sure what Edward's reaction was going to be, but this is what needed to be said, as she believed this was the crux of the problem. She drew a deep breath and moved closer towards him so she was leaning over the coffee-table.

"Tell me, Edward, have you ever said 'I love you' to anyone, ever in your life, and has anyone ever said it to you?"

Edward was shocked at the question, and was quite affronted for a brief moment. He sat forward in his chair, in the confrontational pose again, but for the moment, didn't say anything.

Alice didn't need to look at Edward's aura; she could see the tension in his shoulders returning. She held her breath as she watched Edward fighting for control of his emotions, and she knew, without him having to confirm it, that she had hit the nail on the head. The damaged man sitting in front of her had never felt love before. He hadn't received it; he had never been in it; he hadn't ever said it. His parents had a lot to answer for.

Edward hands started to tremble, as years of hurt and anger boiled up inside of him. The plastic water bottle he was holding cracked under the pressure of his grip, as he struggled to control himself in front of Alice.

Memories of his formative years flashed through his mind, and the loneliness and misery of his childhood, which was imprinted on his psyche, lacerated his already damaged soul. He remembered the instant when it dawned on him, that from the moment his mother gave birth to him, his parents treated him like a financial asset, rather than a son. His existence in 'the family' was tolerated, as long he was making them money. He was used in adverts, practically from the day he was born, and was already working on TV, acting and modelling, before he was old enough to start school. Even though he loved football and baseball, he wasn't allowed to play sports, just in case he damaged his perfect features or injured himself so he couldn't work.

Without being asked whether he wanted this, he was enrolled in full-time stage school when he was ten, and commenced his intensive training to become a superstar. He left the house in the morning with the chauffeur before his mother was up, and his parents were always out when he got back from school. The only affection he ever received at home was from the staff, and they were changed regularly, as his father made a habit of accusing them of theft or incompetence, and sacking them, before he was obliged to give them employment benefits.

His teenage years were spent either in a TV studio or the school. Friendships with other students or actors were discouraged by his parents, so his ability to form relationships with other human beings couldn't develop naturally, until he left home. Even then he found it difficult to trust the people around him, as he believed everyone he met, either professionally or socially, only wanted to use him for their own ends.

Edward's life, until he met Bella, had been a lonely existence, and, as Alice had guessed, totally devoid of love. As he pondered what Alice had deduced from his dreams and fantasies, he became angry and defensive. The toughened shell that had protected him for years from hurt and pain, which had cracked apart because of Bella's imaginary love for him, was slowly starting to bond together again.

Alice stood up and walked over to his side of the coffee table, and made as if she was going to put her arm around his shoulders, but he shook her away.

"What gives you the right to ask me that, Alice?" he growled.

"Because I care about you."

Edward scoffed and put his head in his hands. He couldn't look Alice in the eye, and his body was shaking with anger.

"Why do you care, you've only just met me? You don't know me, or care about me, really. You might care about Bella, and that in turn includes me; well it did. And, of course, I'm Jasper's meal ticket; so that makes me important. But you don't actually _'care'_ about me.

"No-one cares; everyone leaves. Everyone I've ever cared about has gone; they even got rid of my dog when I was a kid. Dreams and fantasies? All I've ever dreamed or fantasized about was having someone who cared about _me;_ Edward Cullen the boy, Edward Cullen the man, not Edward Cullen the superstar."

Edward was rambling; he wasn't even talking to Alice any more, he was talking to the air, as though everyone who had ever come in contact with him in the past was in the room listening to him.

"Why do you think I've never had a proper girlfriend? I've gone from one shag to the next; never getting close enough to anyone to care. The girls; they only want me for my money, my fame, my fucking face and my eight inch dick. They don't want Edward Cullen, the real person. They just want to fuck me, rob me and then leave.

"Oh yes, I'm arrogant and cold, and rude, and every other adjective they want to throw at me, but it's my shield from all the bullshit and lies out there. Of course, the one day in my life I let my shield down, what happens? Bella Swan creeps through the crack and breaks my fucking heart, and now she's gone; she's left me as well."

He stood up and grabbed Alice by the shoulders. A storm was raging in his eyes and his lips were quivering.

"Do you want to know the details of my last dream, **Alice '****_fucking interfering' _****Brandon**, do you? Well I'll tell you. I dreamt I had the best sex of my life with Bella; only it wasn't sex, it was _love._ The first and only time I've felt truly loved, and it was all a fucking dream, thanks to you. So, yes, I am a screwed up, twisted, son-of-an-absolute-bona-fide-bitch, but I am never, ever, going to let my guard down again, because all I've got from doing that is pain."

Alice had started crying while Edward was shouting, both at her and the world. He had frightened her, but she wanted him to know her feelings for him were genuine.

"Edward, I do care; I wouldn't be with you in this room if I didn't. If you want me to say I'm sorry for what I did, I'll say it. I'm sorry if I hurt you. But I'm not sorry that I've made you look at yourself through other people's eyes; even if it wasn't real. I still want to help you."

"If you really want to help me, then leave now. I just want you to get out my room, Alice. I want to be left alone, and I want you to tell Jasper I don't want to be disturbed for the rest of the night. Now just go; get the fuck out of here."

Alice silently collected her jacket and bags that she had brought with her, and walked towards the door. She removed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from the inside handle, and once she had opened the door, she hung it on the handle outside. She quietly closed the door, hearing the lock click, then leant back against it and breathed deeply in an effort to regain her composure. As she stood there in the empty corridor, she heard a loud crash, followed by an anguished wail, and then the sound of Edward sobbing his heart out.

* * *

Alice stood in the corridor for a few moments, listening to Edward's distress, but not knowing what to do. She was genuinely concerned for Edward's state of mind, and didn't want to leave him alone, just in case he did something stupid, like throw himself out of a window. She needed to get to Jasper's room quickly, and tell him what had transpired, and he could decide what to do. She would also try concocting one of her calming spells to help get Edward through the night.

As she waited for the elevator, she contemplated whether she should have told him that he hadn't dreamt he had made love to Bella, but that would have broken Bella's confidence. It was for him to find out that news from Bella, not to get it second-hand from her; that would be unforgivable.

The elevator arrived, and she stepped inside, holding tightly onto Edward's empty water bottle, which hopefully still had some of his saliva around the rim. As the elevator descended, she prayed to Venus, and all the other Wicca Gods and Goddesses, that no harm would come to him that night, and that he would find true love one day, because everyone deserved to know love, and be loved, at some time in their life.

The elevator arrived at the third floor and she hurried down the corridor to suite number 303, where the man who she guessed was going to be the love of her own life was waiting for her. As she knocked on his door, she knew for definite there was no ocean wide enough on Earth that was going to stop her from being with him if he truly wanted her. And if he did, she was ready to move to California with him, or even Outer Mongolia, if that's what it took not to be apart from him again.

* * *

A/N.

**So, Alice has provoked Edward to accept that his upbringing has had a detrimental effect on his life and his relationships. More will be revealed about his past in the next chapter and Edward will find help and receive advice from an unlikely source. The story will move along quickly now. Bella is preparing to step onto the stage tomorrow, Edward is having to make up his mind whether to return to LA and David is still lurking in London.**

**Joan xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETEEN– Waterloo Sunset**

* * *

As Alice left the room and closed the door, Edward drew his knees up to his chest and kicked the edge of the coffee table so hard, it flipped over and smashed into several pieces as it hit the ground, scattering shards of glass over the polished wooden floor. Edward let out a howl of anguish, then broke down as he recalled, not for the first time, his love-less childhood.

Memories of his mother's callous rejection of him, when he was desperate for love and affection, came flooding back, and the pain of being fobbed off by his father when he asked him to play catch, or go to a ball game, tore at his already lacerated heart strings. These recollections and others had haunted his day and night time thoughts all his adolescent and adult life and were as painful now as if these incidents had just happened, and he was not in a five star hotel, thousands of miles from California, but back in his childhood home, sobbing on his bed, just wanting to be loved.

Child abuse, he knew from personal experience, was not confined to physical cruelty. Mental torture, rejection and absence of affection from a parent, were infinitely more painful than being slapped in his opinion, as the effects were subtle and longer lasting.

As an unplanned and unwanted baby, his childhood had been unhappy and lonely. The only occasions where he had experienced even the tiniest amount of grudging attention or recognition of his existence from his parents, was when he succeeded at whatever given goal they had set him, which was when he was making them money. This was why he had always been determined to be the best at everything; just to get a response from either of them. Now, his parents were basking in his glory, and milking every opportunity to associate themselves with his success; conveniently forgetting they had told him many times when he was growing up, that he was an expensive accident, and having a child had not been part of their life-plan.

He had curled himself into a fetal position in the chair, almost as though he was physically trying to shield himself from the bombardment of painful memories invading his brain. Incidents, where he should have received love and protection from his parents, but instead, he was abandoned by those who should have cared for him without question; these memories came flooding back to him, one after another.

Even though it was many years since he had sought their affection, the devastating feelings of rejection and not being loved were still there; deep-seated in his psyche, burning like red-hot pokers stabbing into his heart.

He had long accepted that his upbringing was to blame for his aggressive attitude to life, and also his determined resistance to ever forming a long term relationship with anyone. His skin was as thick as an alligator's, and no one had ever come close to penetrating it, until he stepped onto that plane in New York seven days ago and spotted a girl with bright blue nail polish on her toes. His armor had protected his heart from being wounded even more, but it had also given the people around him the impression that he was cold and heartless; not that he was protecting himself from being hurt and damaged further.

There was another deep-seated reason why he had refused to contemplate entering into a committed relationship with a girl, but he had never admitted this to anyone. In his anger, he had professed to Alice that nobody really cared about him, and the girls he met only wanted a share of his fame and fortune. But the real reason he avoided a relationship was that he was terrified of the consequences; not of commitment, or even of rejection; the thing that scared him the most was becoming a father.

Because he had never been loved, or had never felt love for anyone, he didn't know whether he was capable of _giving_ love to a child, and he wasn't prepared to risk putting a child through what he had experienced. He was so afraid of behaving like his own neglectful parents, he had made the conscious decision never to marry and have a family. Consequently, he couldn't risk getting close to a girl, or getting a girl pregnant, in case the inevitable happened, and he would fail at the most important role of any man's life.

Meeting Bella had caused him to re-think his life plan, and when Bella was in his bed and in his arms, he had fantasized, for a brief moment, of a new future filled with love and happiness. But like a mirage in the desert, the love he thought was there between them wasn't real. It was just a dream, just a fantasy.

Edward pulled his t-shirt over his face and wiped his eyes. He was calming down now, and was recalling with dismay the confrontation he had with Alice before she left the room. He was still angry that she had asked him whether he had ever experienced love, but she had been perceptive about his hang-ups, and was dead-on with her conclusion. Also, she had been courageous enough to confront him with the truth, face-to-face, and that took some nerve, as she had already witnessed his aggression when he was furious, and Jasper had not been there to protect her this time.

He knew he would have to apologize to her, as he had frightened her for a moment when he got hold of her, but that would have to wait. He needed time to think about what to do about his own situation, and decide what to do about Bella.

He unfolded himself from the chair, stood up slowly and stretched, then carefully stepped away from the broken glass and went into the bathroom to freshen up. He looked at his watch and it was nearly five o'clock. The early evening light was still bright outside, so he guessed it was going to be another warm, sultry evening in London. He made up his mind that he had to get out of the hotel and go somewhere to think; to confront his own demons. Where, he didn't know. He would just follow where his feet took him.

Before he left the room, he called reception and told them he had accidentally broken a table and to charge it to his account. He contemplated leaving a note for Jasper, but decided he didn't need to, as he had asked Alice to tell him he didn't want to be disturbed. He changed into a clean white t-shirt with a loose yellow shirt over the top, picked up his beanie, sunglasses, phone and wallet, and left the room.

Luckily, no paparazzi were camped out on the street outside the hotel, so Edward set off on foot in the direction of Waterloo Bridge, which was a short walk away. He climbed the stone steps that led up to the road level and headed across the river towards the opposite bank. It was rush hour, and the bridge was rammed with traffic, as offices were turning their staff out onto the crowded London streets at the end of the working day; the youngsters would be heading to lively bars and restaurants and the older folk would be traveling home to their families, their gardens and TV.

Edward stopped half way across the bridge and leaned against the wall to take in the spectacle of the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament; a city-scape that was so iconic and always a thrill to see for native Londoners as well as tourists. He looked over the parapet of the massive concrete bridge, to the swirling brown waters below, and for a while watched the steady stream of sight-seeing boats full of tourists, who, without fail, shrieked in delight, as they emerged from under the bridge and the famous skyline came into view for the first time.

The traffic was at a standstill, so he easily weaved his way through the stationary cars to the opposite side of the bridge, where the view downstream was dominated by the ancient dome of St. Paul's Cathedral in the distance, and the new monoliths in the City of London, like the Gherkin and The Shard.

The sun was just starting its slow journey towards the horizon behind him, and, for a brief moment, he was dazzled by the rays reflecting off the water. He looked to his right, away from the glare, and there, standing proudly, overlooking the river, was the concrete edifice of The National Theater, where, in just over twenty-four hours time, Bella would be making her debut. Even though he knew she wasn't there, Edward was drawn towards the building and started walking in that direction.

He kept his eyes looking at the ground to avoid being recognized, even though his beanie covered nearly all of his dark auburn hair and his Ray Bans and upturned shirt collar concealed most of his face. He weaved quickly through the crowds, managing to avoid bumping into anyone on the way, then sprinted down the wide stone steps that led to the paved towpath that stretched along the south bank.

When he reached ground level, the huge theater was directly in front of him, filling his field of view, and he appraised the imposing piece of architecture that was neither beautiful nor ugly. It shrieked of 1970's modernity, with its acres of concrete balconies and towering grey pillars, but Edward liked the shapes and edges of this unusual building, unaware it had been given many derogatory names in the past, by people who wanted the theaters of London to remain entrenched in a Victorian time warp.

He walked towards the river and leaned against the heavy stone wall and watched the world go by. After about fifteen minutes of people-watching, he guessed he had seen a representative from every continent on the planet strolling past, enjoying the pleasant evening sunshine; every color, every creed; young couples, gay couples; families with children, old people, single people, skateboarders, dog walkers, tourists and commuters; in fact a cross section of the millions of people who inhabited one of the most cosmopolitan and liberal cities in the world.

Not far away were buskers filling the air with music from guitars, violins and beat boxes, and every so often he would hear rapturous applause from their audiences at the end of their impromptu performances. He loved music, and always regretted having to leave his guitar behind when he traveled. It always gave him solace when he needed it, and he needed to feel the strings under his fingertips right now. He envied the busker's freedom to find a spot and perform to whoever wanted to stop and listen, and not have to worry about reviews, or financing, or any of the superficial crap that inhabited his own bullshit existence. Just being able to play for pleasure, and to entertain people as a bonus, seemed like heaven to him at that precise moment.

He stayed in the same place for about half an hour, thinking about Bella, and contemplating whether he should stay in London or go back to LA tomorrow as planned. He was just about to move on, with that question still unanswered, when he spotted the doors of the theater opening, and two young men appeared on the steps with what looked like rolled up posters under their arms. They unlocked the glass doors that covered the advertising display cabinets outside the theater, and commenced replacing the posters of last night's performance with new ones. He could see from where he was standing, they were pictures of Bella in her role of Katherina. He was tempted to go and ask the men whether they had any spare copies, but resisted, as they probably had the correct amount, and he was right in his assumption.

After they had completed their task, he made his way up the steps, and stopped in front of the first cabinet to look at the image on the poster. Bella was almost unrecognizable to him, as her facial expression in the picture, which had been taken on stage while she was in character, was not one that he had ever seen on her in real life. Her eyes were wild and ferocious, even more so than when she had verbally attacked him on the plane and at the BBC, and her stance was almost feline.

He moved to the next picture; she was in the arms of Petruchio, resisting his amorous advances, but smiling coyly up at him at the same time. Edward recognized this Bella straight away, and his heart lurched in his chest as he recalled the weight of her in his arms when he had last held her.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Edward turned round to see who had spoken. Behind him was a short, elderly, Mediterranean-looking man, who he knew at first glance he had seen somewhere before, and then he remembered where.

"Carlo," he said, as the memory of the tryst behind his cafe came back to him.

Carlo stood back and narrowed his eyes to see who this young man was, then slowly he recalled the day when Bella brought a companion with her into his cafe. He was good with faces, but couldn't remember his name though.

"You're _Bella Bellissima's_ friend, aren't you? Is she here with you?"

"No, sorry, I don't know where she is. I think she's out of town this evening."

"But I thought you two..."

"No, Carlo, we're not together."

"You surprise me, _ragazzo,_ as my CCTV told a different story."

Edward's eyebrows went skywards. "Your CCTV! What do you mean?"

"The back yard of the cafe has a security camera overlooking it; we have to have it on all day for insurance reasons. The monitor is in the kitchen, and we were watching you and Bella on the TV screen after you left. You put on quite a show."

Edward looked embarrassed. "Do you still have us on tape?"

"No, we wiped it, so don't worry, your secret is safe with us."

Edward nodded and muttered thanks.

Carlo put his hand on Edward's arm. "C'mon young man, you look as though you need some strong Italian coffee."

Before Edward could resist, Carlo was pulling him down the steps, and Edward was following him, without argument, back to the cafe behind the theater.

Carlo reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of keys and unlocked the door. A loud beeping sound broke the silence inside, and Carlo reached into a box by the door and turned off the security alarm. Edward followed him into the empty cafe, and Carlo locked the door behind them.

"Sit there," Carlo said, gesturing towards some high stools overlooking the counter. Edward pulled his beanie off and perched himself on the nearest stool, as Carlo set to with the coffee machine. The smell of the coffee made Edward feel hungry, even though it wasn't that long since he had eaten the cheeseburger and ice cream with Jasper. Almost as though Carlo had read Edward's mind, he opened the fridge and pulled out a tray of unsold, but still edible, sandwiches and wraps. "Help yourself," Carlo offered, and Edward unashamedly devoured two spicy chicken wraps before the coffee was ready.

Carlo took the steaming mugs over to the same table where Edward had sat with Bella, and gestured to Edward to follow him.

"Why isn't the cafe open, Carlo?" Edward asked, as he sat down and sipped his coffee.

"Our opening hours suit the theaters along the south bank, Edward. We serve breakfast from six in the morning until about three in the afternoon, and then we open again at about ten, until the last person has gone home. My son and his wife will be in soon to get ready for the late evening shift."

Edward was staring into the depths of his coffee while Carlo was talking, and the dark brown pool of liquid reminded him of Bella's eyes, and he choked slightly at the memory of when he had first noticed them on the plane, and then again when he was/wasn't making love to her. Without thinking, he ran his hand over his eyes, almost as though he was brushing away imaginary tears, then averted his eyes away from the mug to stop himself thinking about her.

Carlo wasn't an analyst, but he knew that the young man in front of him was suffering, and he made a calculated guess why.

"I don't remember your name, young man, but I do recognize that look on your face. You've fallen for Bella, but the feeling hasn't being reciprocated; am I right?"

"Yes and no, Carlo, and my name is Edward. I think she feels something for me; in fact I know she feels something for me. But she's put her career first, and is not interested in starting up a relationship while she's in England."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know to be honest. I respect her decision, as I know how important it is for her to be successful here. But I can't get my head around why she can't contemplate having a career _and_ a love life. At the moment I honestly feel I'm ready to give up my own career to be with her, but I've only known her for a week; I just feel totally confused."

"Have you seen her act on stage, Edward?"

"Yes, I saw her rehearse, and she's magnificent."

Carlo took a sip of his coffee and looked hard at the distressed young man sitting opposite him across the table. He recalled that Edward 'confessed' to being a movie actor, so he obviously wasn't aware of how stage actors lived, and Carlo thought it was about time he put him in the picture.

"Edward, stage actors are a special breed of people, and Shakespearean ones even more so. The great actors live and breathe their parts, to the exclusion of everything else, and some become obsessed. When they become another persona on stage, night after night, it would be naive to think it wouldn't have an effect on them.

"I see actors coming into this cafe after their rehearsals and performances at The National and The Globe, and they are physically and mentally exhausted. Some of them are still in the mind-set of their role, almost as though they are living all day as their characters, unable to turn off. I can sometimes guess which part they are playing, from their stature, their mannerisms, even how they speak.

"I haven't seen Bella perform yet, I will have that pleasure on Friday, but I'm expecting her to become totally absorbed by the character of 'The Shrew'. From what I gather from the reviews she received on Broadway, she will become so immersed in the role that she might have great difficulty switching off from Katherina when she leaves the theater at night."

Edward contemplated what Carlo had said, and it made sense. When he watched her rehearse, he appreciated Bella's role was a physical feat of endurance, just as much as a test of her acting abilities and her prolific memory. Also, as he had always suspected, her feisty and volatile character was due, in part, to not being able to switch off from the role she had been playing for the past six months. Bella and Katherina were, at times, the same person.

He hadn't experienced the aftermath following a performance in front of a paying audience, but he could imagine the natural-high Bella would be on after three hours on stage, followed, no doubt, by standing ovations, which was something he had never experienced, apart from at premieres.

He also had to accept that she was still relatively young to take the lead with such a prestigious Company. Consequently, to ask her to perform on stage, night after night, and then come home, exhausted, into the arms of a new lover, would be too much. He realized now why she had kept him at arm's length and he finally accepted what she had been telling him all along; Bella couldn't contemplate having a relationship with him while she was working.

"You're right, Carlo. I've got to walk away and let her get on with her life, even though it's killing me to do it. If she fails at this, I don't want to be the reason."

Carlo sniggered.

Edward had been looking down and fiddling with a napkin when he voiced his decision, so he looked up at Carlo in surprise, as this was not the reaction he was expecting from his statement.

"Have you looked in your pants lately, Edward?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you still have a pair of balls in your underwear?"

"What!"

"You Americans, you give up so easily; the British do as well. You are great soldiers, but lovers – pah! I'm Italian, and we fight, fight, fight for our women. Oh, they play hard to get, and make us work for it, but the waiting is worth it in the end. It took me three years to win my Marissa, and then she made me wait for her until our wedding night; but the wait was worth every second. I would have waited for another three years, and another, because she was the only girl for me.

"When you find the right girl, Edward, nothing should stand in your way, especially something as trivial as time. You're young; you've got years ahead of you, so what's the rush? Why must you have her now? Why not when she's finished her run? Why are you accepting defeat so easily, just because she can't or won't give you her heart and soul now?"

Edward put his head in his hands and grabbed handfuls of his hair.

"I don't know, Carlo. I suppose it's my past; I don't handle rejection very well. If I knew what her feelings were for me, then maybe I could be more patient."

"You believe she likes you?"

"Yes."

"A lot?"

"Yes."

"Has she actually rejected you? I mean has she said you're not the man for her?"

"No."

"Is she worth waiting for?"

"Yes."

"So, do you have a problem?"

"No."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it."

Edward put his head in his hands again and stared down into the last remnants of his coffee. Carlo's instant 'counselling session' had made him look at his situation from a different angle, but then he thought about Bella's note which had been so dismissive. She had told him in Alice's apartment that she couldn't think clearly in his presence, so she was definitely attracted to him, but obviously not enough to want to be with him, and definitely not enough to sleep with him. He finally accepted he would have to be patient and wait until she had finished her time in England, and hopefully the flame would still be burning in her heart as well as his.

He knew what he had to do.

Edward finished his coffee and stood up and shook Carlo by the hand.

"Thanks for your advice, Carlo. I've decided to go back to Los Angeles and give Bella the space she needs, but I'll come back to see her when she's almost finished her run in Stratford. If she still has feelings for me, then we can take it from there."

"Are you going to contact her in the meantime?"

"No, I'll let her concentrate on her work; she said I distracted her."

"So you're just going to fly back to America without saying goodbye, or telling her how you feel?"

"I don't know where she is, Carlo, and my flight is tomorrow at noon. She's not answering her phone, and she's switched her voicemail off. I suppose I could send her a text, or leave a note for her at her hotel, but I'm not even sure she is going back there."

"Or leave one with me; I'll give it to her on Friday. She has promised to come to the cafe after the show to hear my verdict."

Edward thought about Carlo's offer. If he took Carlo up on it, then he would be confident Bella would get his note after she had a few performances under her belt, which in the circumstances would be the best option, as he didn't want to distract her from her opening night. He nodded at Carlo and said gratefully, "That would be really good, thank you."

Carlo went behind the counter and into the office, and came back a moment later with paper, pen and an envelope.

"I'll leave you in peace. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

Edward sat down again and twirled the pen in his hand. "What was he going to write," he thought? He had never written a letter to a girl in his life, and didn't know where to start. How was he going to address her? 'Dear Bella' was too formal; 'My Darling Bella' was too flowery; how the hell was he going to put his thoughts down on paper when he could even start it properly?

In the end he wrote...

_Bella,_

_I'm sorry that I didn't have a chance to see you before you left the apartment. I wish that you had woken me, so I could say goodbye to you properly. __I wanted to kiss you, and hold you in my arms one more time, but you had gone, and now all I have are precious memories._

_I understand and accept that you need separation to get into the right mind-set for your role, but I want to tell you that I will wait for you until you say the word, and when you do, I will be there for you, wherever you are. __I will soon be flying back to LA, but please believe me, you will be in my thoughts, constantly, until I see you again._

___Good luck with The Shrew, I know you won't need it, as you will be wonderful._

_I am leaving this letter with Carlo, but my bruised and battered heart I leave in your safe keeping. __I hope that one day I will be able to retrieve it from you, and it will be restored to full working order._

_Until then, take care, beautiful Bella._

_Edward x_

Edward folded the piece of paper carefully and placed it in the envelope, sealing it with a kiss. The noise of his chair scraping against the floor alerted Carlo that he had finished, and he came out from the kitchen to see Edward getting ready to leave.

Edward walked over to the counter and handed Carlo the letter and shook his hand again.

"Goodbye, and thank you for the coffee and the advice."

"You're welcome, Edward, and I hope I will see you in here again soon."

Edward smiled at Carlo, "I'll come back if you promise to have a picture of Bella on the wall when I do."

"She's got to earn her spot, but I have a feeling she will." Carlo laughed and patted Edward on the back.

Edward followed him to the door and Carlo unlocked it and kissed him on both cheeks.

"Goodbye and Good Luck, Edward; have a safe journey home."

Edward waved as he crossed the road, then slowly wandered in the direction of the National Theater, then climbed the steps onto Waterloo Bridge. As he crossed to the north bank, on his way back to The Savoy, he stopped for a while to watch the final rays of the sun as it disappeared below the horizon behind Big Ben. The warm reds and golds in the sky slowly melted into dark blues and purples, and the bright lights of nighttime London sprang out against the darkening palette. He reluctantly set off again and passed a courting couple leaning against the parapet, who were immersed in a deep and passionate kiss, but he didn't stop to ask whether their names were Terry and Julie*, he just kept walking until he reached the north bank, then turned left in the direction of his hotel.

* * *

Edward took the elevator up to his suite, and as he stepped out, an agitated Jasper was standing in the corridor talking on his cell phone. As soon as Jasper saw him, his eyes rolled up to heaven and he flipped his phone shut without saying goodbye to whoever he was talking to.

"Where the hell have you been, Edward? We were just about to start dredging the river!"

Edward moved past him and opened his door.

"In the words of the late, great, Marvin Gaye, Jasper, "Only the good die young", so there was no need to worry. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to pack my bags, then go to bed. We have a long journey tomorrow."

Jasper looked at him cautiously.

"So, we _are_ leaving as planned then?"

"Yes. I have things to do and people to see in LA, and the sooner the better. I suggest you go back to your room, enjoy your last night with the meddlesome witch, and I'll see you in the morning."

Edward closed the door in his face, leaving Jasper standing with his mouth open, staring at polished wood.

"So, when do I tell him Alice is coming too?" he muttered to the door, with a satisfied smirk on his face, then he turned and walked towards the elevator. He pressed the call button more than once, as he was anxious to get back to his own room, to firstly call off the search party, to pack his own bags, and, once again, to fall into the welcoming arms of his insatiable, meddlesome, witch.

* * *

**A/N**

**You may have noticed that the (non-alliteration for once) name of this chapter is 'Waterloo Sunset', which is the title of a song that was recently voted by Londoners as their favorite song about London. It is in my own personal top ten of best songs ever. **

**In the song *Terry and Julie meet at Waterloo station every Friday night and 'cross over the river', and legend had it that 'Terry' was the actor Terence Stamp, and 'Julie' was the actress Julie Christie, two unbelievably beautiful people. They were dating when this song was first released in the 1960's by The Kinks. This 'fact' has sadly been discounted recently by Ray Davies who wrote and performed the song, which is a bit of shame for romantic Londoners.**

**The view from both sides of Waterloo Bridge at sunset is spectacular; I hope readers can experience it at some point in their lives. If you go onto the International House of Fanfiction website - you can see the gorgeous banner that goes with this story, showing Edward in his white T and yellow shirt, against a backdrop of a Waterloo sunset. Thanks to Cared for the magnificent artwork**

**(ficsisters dot com /tag/michaelmas54/ )**

**So Edward is not going to be loitering by the stage door when Bella returns. Let's see what happens in LA. Revenge can be a dangerous game, but can also be very satisfying. Also, Alice finds a way of making amends - that's all I'm saying. **

**Top up your coffee/tea/wine, put your phone on silent, and hit that 'next' button for chapter 20.**

**Joan x**


	20. Chapter 20

**************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY - Revenge, Risks and Rituals**

* * *

********* Two chapters uploaded today - **read Chapter 19 first**** ***************

* * *

Edward emerged from the elevator and strolled over to the front desk where Jasper was checking out. Sue was on duty and was going through the room service charges with Jasper, which included a replacement coffee table plus copious amounts of alcohol and food. Jasper didn't comment, but authorized the invoice without question, and asked Sue to e-mail a copy to their accountants in LA.

Edward wasn't interested in what Jasper was doing, so he wandered over to where Alice was tapping a message onto her cell phone and sitting by what seemed like an enormous amount of luggage compared with what they brought to London. He coughed to get her attention.

"Look, Alice, I'm sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have shouted at you, or touched you when I was angry. I hope you'll forgive me."

Alice looked up at him and placed a finger over her pursed lips as if she was deep in thought.

"I'll forgive you, Edward, but that's only because your aura has changed since I last saw you, and I really think you've turned a corner."

Edward stopped himself from scoffing and went along with it.

"In what way?"

"I don't know what is going on in your head, Edward, as mind reading is not one of my skills, believe it or not, but I can see that your aura today is more vibrant, warmer and free-flowing, which means that you're happier and perhaps more content. I would also guess that you've come to terms with whatever has happened to you in the past that has affected your life so drastically, and you're going to take steps to move forward; am I right?"

"You can tell all this by the colors coming off me?" Edward asked; still not convinced that auras existed, but once again stunned that Alice was so perceptive.

"No, silly; I can also tell by your demeanor, your expressions and your body language, and that vein in your forehead has almost disappeared."

Edward chuckled. "So I'm an open book then; easy to read."

"Most people are, Edward. If you start taking an interest in people, study them, you can read the signs quite easily."

Alice stood up and threw her arms around Edward, then stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek.

"Edward, I apologize for asking you such a personal question last night. It was insensitive and I _really am sorry."_

Edward picked her up off the floor and spun her around, causing her to shriek.

"I needed to hear what you said, Alice, but maybe not as bluntly as that. But I'll forgive you this time, you meddlesome witch; just don't do it again!"

Jasper was walking towards them and shouted, "Hey! Put my girlfriend down."

Edward lowered Alice down to the ground and kissed her on her forehead.

"I'll leave you two in peace so you can say your goodbyes in private. It's been great; no, it's been _an experience_ getting to know you, Alice."

Alice giggled and Jasper turned slightly pink.

"What?" Edward said suspiciously, knowing that something was going on.

"Alice is travelling to LA with us," Jasper answered, slightly smugly, as he put his arm around her.

Edward's mouth dropped open for a second, then he clapped Jasper on the back.

"I'm really pleased for you both, but, Alice, I was hoping you would be around for Bella. You seem to be her only friend in London."

"It was Bella who insisted I go, Edward. When you were in a taxi, being chased around London, and Bella and I were waiting for you to get to my apartment and trying to sober up at the same time, Bella was convincing me that there was nothing keeping me here and I should follow Jasper to LA. Neither of us knows if it will work out; we might be fed up with each other by next week, or next month, or we may stay together forever, but I know I can't leave him now. I was planning to go to LA next month anyway, as my book may be made into a movie, so I'll have plenty of things to do to fill my time while Jasper is looking after you, so don't fret that he'll be any less attentive."

"I'm not worried about that; I just hope Kate doesn't get wind of the fact that Jasper has a rich girlfriend. She's bleeding him dry as it is."

Alice said in her best witches voice, "Well it's a good job I've packed my cauldron then, isn't it?"

* * *

They landed in LA at six in the evening, after an uneventful flight. Jasper noticed that Edward stuck to non-alcoholic drinks during the journey, and either watched movies or played video games. He seemed to be taking his separation from Bella well, but Jasper had been with Edward long enough to know he was the world's expert at putting on a front.

At LAX, Edward asked Jasper to arrange for his luggage to be sent to his home, as he had things he wanted to do that evening. He said he was going straight into town, but refused to tell Jasper where.

"Where do you think he's going?" Alice asked Jasper when they were in their car heading for Jasper's apartment.

"I've got no idea, I was hoping you might have picked up some clues; you're more observant than me. He was very quiet on the flight; he obviously has something on his mind."

Alice had not disclosed to Jasper all of what she had said to him last night, so their conversation about love, or lack of it, was between Edward and her. She guessed he had reflected on his situation yesterday evening, and was going to take some steps to resolve his issues. She presumed this might mean confrontation with his parents, but she didn't want to pre-warn Jasper, as that would mean Edward would never trust her again.

She sat back in the seat and slipped her hand in Jasper's, giving it a light squeeze. Jasper leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss.

"Welcome to LA, Alice. I want you to be happy here."

"I'll be happy wherever you are, Jasper."

* * *

Edward pressed the security buzzer on the outside wall of a property on the outskirts of Beverley Hills. This was the home of his lawyer, Garrett, who had represented him since he was sixteen. Garrett had been at University with Jasper; consequently most of Jasper's clients, plus many other actors in Hollywood, used Garrett's services when contracts had to be negotiated with film studios. Garrett was astute and business like, and Edward trusted him implicitly. He had yet to call into question any of Garrett's advice, but what he was going to ask him to do now might be out of his field of expertise. He had worked out what he wanted to achieve, and if Garrett couldn't help him, then maybe he could point him in the direction of someone who could.

Garrett's voice came through the panel.

"Edward, is that you?"

Edward looked up and noticed there was a camera pointing at him, which wasn't there when he last visited. He waved, and seconds later he heard a click, and the electric gates slowly opened. After indicating to the limo driver that he could leave, Edward walked through.

At the end of the drive was a modest house by Beverley Hill's standards. It was a small, single-storey bungalow, surrounded by tall palm trees and other unusual exotic plants. In front of the house were parked several very expensive sports cars, including a Ferrari, a Lamborghini and a Porsche, and another car that Edward hadn't seen before. When he got closer, he recognized the distinctive marque of McLaren, and smiled, because Garrett had just treated himself to an F1, which Edward knew was Garrett's ultimate dream and fantasy.

As Edward was lusting over the glorious lines of the magnificent vehicle, the door opened, and Garrett was standing in the doorway grinning.

"Do you like it?"

"Fuck, yeah! Any chance of having a drive in it?"

"Definitely; another time though. I've already had a few drinks this evening and I don't want to bend it; I've only had it for ten days. I've had to increase my security as well, or I couldn't get insurance."

"Jesus!" Edward exclaimed, as he followed Garrett through the door and into the modern open-plan living area. Garrett went straight to the fridge, got out two bottles of _Peroni,_ and took them into the garden at the back of the house.

"So, Edward, this is highly unusual for you to come over without warning. Is this business or pleasure?"

"A bit of both really. I need your professional advice, and if what I want to do comes off, it will make me _very_ happy."

"I'm intrigued; tell me more."

Edward took a drink straight from the bottle. As he savored the taste of the cold Italian beer, he took his mind back to the day when he met Garrett for the first time in Jasper's office, when he was a boy of sixteen. Jasper had just taken him on as a client, and Edward recalled having to sign on many dotted lines that day, as Garrett had drawn up the original contract between him and Jasper. His parents had been hovering over him while he did this, and took his copy of the contract away with them to lodge with their own lawyers. He had never seen it again, but he wanted to see it now.

"Can you recall when we first met, Garrett?"

"Yes, I can. You were an arrogant son of a bitch who didn't say much; you just answered "yes, no, okay." Your mother, excuse me for saying this, was irritating, and your dad was a fucking know-it-all. Jasper and I couldn't wait to get you all out of the office."

Edward laughed for a moment. Garrett knew that he didn't have a good relationship with his parents, but he had no clue how deep Edward's hatred for them was running right now.

"Would you still have a copy of the contract, and all the other papers that went with it?"

"Yes, I've got copies of everything you've ever signed in my offices downtown. Why?"

"I've always suspected my parents ripped me off during the five years that contract was valid. I always knew they kept all my earnings before I was sixteen, and I must have made a hell of a lot of money then. When I was twenty one, you got me to sign a new contract, and all of a sudden my earnings shot up phenomenally. I also changed bank accounts, remember? I want to start investigating where all the money I earned between those years went."

"Has something happened since I last saw you to make you want to do this?"

"You could say so; but my main motive for doing this is revenge."

"Revenge for what? Apart from allegedly ripping you off, is there something else they've done that I should know."

"Yes, my parents treated me abominably when I was a child, and this has seriously affected my life and my relationships with people. I'm going to make them suffer for this abuse now, by exposing that they stole from their own son. Money was the root cause of everything shitty that happened in my life, and that is how I intend to hit them. I'm going to empty their bank accounts, Garrett. I don't care how much bad publicity this gets, I'm going to do it; I'm going to make them pay for the damage they've caused by their own greed."

"It might be difficult, Edward. If the evidence isn't there, it's their word against yours. If you start something, it may reflect badly on you, as the American public doesn't like over-privileged children dissing their parents."

"Possibly, but for me it's worth the risk. Can you go through the contracts tomorrow and then get your accountants on it. Their accountants must have filed tax returns all the time I was earning, and that goes back further than when I signed with you. I want the IRS involved as well."

"Is that all?"

"No, I want an injunction served on them, to prevent them coming within half a mile of me. Plus, they are not to use my fame for their own financial advantage in the future. I don't care how it's done, but I don't want them making another dime out of the fact they are related to me."

Garrett looked concerned, but he'd known Edward long enough to know when he was deadly serious.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"

Edward smiled broadly at Garrett and said...

"Fuck, yeah!"

* * *

Alice wandered around Jasper's apartment, which wasn't much bigger in floor area than her own apartment in London, but Jasper's had a lot less furniture, so it seemed larger. It had two bedrooms; one for Jasper, and the other set up for when his daughters came to stay. The kitchen overlooked the living area, which had huge windows that opened onto a wide balcony, now drenched in evening sunlight as it looked directly west. The apartment was on the fourth floor of the block which was on the side of a hill, and the view stretched over the tops of a thick blanket of trees, to the glitter of the ocean on the horizon. The sun had almost set, so Alice stopped wandering, and watched the final glow of orange and gold disappear, leaving behind a colorful sky, mourning its loss.

Jasper was on the telephone in the bedroom, so she dropped down onto the comfy sofa and put her feet on the coffee table in front of her. She was tired from the long flight, but not ready to go to bed yet. She was going to attempt to stay awake until normal bedtime time, even though it was about five o'clock in the morning in London.

The table was littered with magazines and newspapers, all connected with the entertainment industry. She picked up a few of them, and started flicking through the pages. There were lots of articles about Edward's new movie in the more recent editions, and Alice skimmed through some of the write-ups, which were generally gushing with praise.

Alice thought about Bella. While she was on the plane she kept glancing at her watch, thinking Bella will be going on stage now, Bella would be finishing about now, Bella would be on her tenth curtain call by now, finally ending with Bella is probably in bed by now, regretting that Edward isn't there to hold her.

She hadn't told Edward, but she had received a text from Bella as soon as they landed. Basically it said, "I've been a fucking idiot," meaning she should have asked Edward to stay longer. Since then, Alice had been debating with herself what to do or say to either of them, without breaking confidences, as she was effectively the 'piggy in the middle', but inspiration hadn't struck as yet. Anyway, Edward was distracted, and was obviously on a mission to sort his past out, so she would leave it be for the moment.

She picked up a magazine that she guessed was a few months old, as the edges were a bit dog-eared. She suspected Jasper's daughters had been reading this one, as this was more of a teenage fan-zine than a magazine. The stories in it were a bit more trivial and aimed at a younger market, but there was a small picture of Edward on the front, which was probably why Jasper had bought it. She flicked through the pages, and on the next to last page there was a small picture of Bella on stage, holding a bouquet of flowers and taking a bow. Alice opened up the magazine properly and started to read.

The article was a face to face interview, comprising of quick questions and answers:

**Welcome, Isabella. Is Isabella Swan your real name?**

_Isabella is my real name, even though I prefer to be called Bella, but Swan was my grandmother's maiden name._

**Why did you change it?**

_There already is an actress with my real name working in theater. This lady is quite a bit older than me, but I thought it would save confusion, so I changed it._

**You've been successful very quickly, what do you put this down to?**

_Hard work and a lot of luck. I was noticed while I was in high school, and I have been nurtured by some great people who work in the industry. I've been given some incredible opportunities by people who had faith in me._

**Are you enjoying being in New York?**

_I love New York. I had visited several times before, and I've had some parts in off-Broadway productions, but I never expected to be given a lead role on Broadway at such a young age._

**You're going to England after the end of this run, are you looking forward to this?**

_Absolutely. It has always been my number one ambition to perform with the Royal Shakespeare Company in their theater in Stratford-on-Avon; the birthplace of William Shakespeare._

**Well, good luck with that.**

_Thank you._

**Now onto the more interesting stuff! ****Are you single at the moment?**

_Yes, I don't have time for boyfriends, but if Ryan Gosling is free, I'm quite happy to make an exception!_

**Who are your favorite bands?**

_Oh Lord, I don't know. I'm more into singer/songwriters than bands. I like classical music as well._

**Do you have any rituals or superstitions before you go on stage?**

Alice read the response to that question, and her eyes popped open wide.

"Oh My God!" she said out loud, just as Jasper came out of the bedroom.

"What's the matter?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Oh, nothing," Alice responded, trying to play down her shock. She now had the answer to what to do about Edward and Bella's predicament, but somehow she had to get this magazine to Edward.

"Come on, Alice; what were you reading?"

"Just an article about Bella. I didn't know Swan wasn't her real name."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, darling; I was just surprised she hadn't told me. I thought I knew everything about her."

"You've only known her for a week!" Jasper chuckled.

"I know, but I've only known you for a week, and I know all about you; what you like, what you don't like; what makes you pant like a dog, or purr like a kitten."

Jasper couldn't take any more of this, so he launched himself on her, and within a few minutes he was...purring like a kitten.

* * *

Edward got out of bed very late the next morning, totally disorientated. His body-clock was still on London time and he had to think about what day of the week it was.

"It's Thursday isn't it" he said aloud to himself, then staggered into the bathroom.

Last night, Garrett had convinced him to stay for dinner, which was man-food, i.e., steak, fries, salad (not much) and beer. They had talked long into the night, until Edward couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and he left in a cab with Garrett's promise in his ear that he would locate the contracts tomorrow and get back to him.

Edward wandered around his home that he hadn't seen in nearly three weeks. His dog was being kenneled with the breeder he bought him from when he was a puppy, and they would be bringing him back this afternoon. His housekeeper had been in to clean while he was away, and had stocked the fridge with provisions, ready for his return. He made a mental note to thank her for doing this, even though it was her job, as he had turned over a new leaf, and would now make an effort to be polite and sociable to the people who looked after him, and not blank them, as before.

He heard Bruce Springsteen warbling from the kitchen, which was where he had left his cell phone to charge overnight. He hurried to see who was calling, wondering whether Garrett had got into work yet and already had some news for him.

He flipped the phone open without looking who's name came up on the screen; it was his mother.

"You're home, Edward. You could have at least called us to say you were back."

"Why should I do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, that it's a bit late to start being concerned about what I'm doing, where I am, whether I'm safe or not."

"What's got into you, Edward; why are you being so unreasonable?"

"Unreasonable?" Edward said quietly, even though he wanted to scream at her. "Unreasonable is a strange word to use. Why unreasonable?"

"Alright, difficult then. Why are you being difficult? You're my son; I have a right to know where you are and what you are doing?"

"No, you don't, Esme. You have no rights at all. You gave up the right to call me your son the day you gave birth to me. I have never been your son, because you never treated me like a son, and it's a bit too late to start playing 'Mommy Dearest'."

"Why did you call me 'Esme', Edward?"

"Because I don't think of you as my mother any more. You were never a mother to me, and Carlisle was never a father."

"How dare you say such things, after all we've done for you."

"No, Esme, you did nothing for me; you just took from me. You never wanted me; you just bled me dry emotionally and financially, and now it's time to pay the check."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see. I'm going to hang up now, and the only communication we're going to have in the future is through lawyers. Have a nice day, Esme!"

As Edward pulled the phone away from his ear, he heard his mother shrieking, **_"Carlisle!"_**

* * *

Edward showered and made himself breakfast, even though it was by now early afternoon, and sat out on his patio reading the morning papers. He was still feeling light headed from the flight and the alcohol-fueled late night with Garrett, which hadn't helped the jet-lag, so had decided to have a quiet day at home, doing virtually nothing. If Garrett needed to see him, he would try and persuade him to come to the house.

He wasn't expecting to hear from Jasper for a couple of days, so was surprised when his phone rang and Jasper's number popped up on the screen.

"Jasper?" he said. "What the fuck do you want?"

"It's not Jasper, it's Alice. Jasper let me use his cell because I've only got my British one and the calls are expensive."

Edward chuckled. Alice was probably a millionaire, many times over, and she was worrying about cell phone charges.

"Oh, right; what's the matter, Alice."

"Can I have your e-mail address, please?"

"Why?"

"I've scanned an article from a magazine and I want you to read it. I just want to ping it over to you."

"What's it about?"

"Bella."

Edward ran his hand through his hair in mild frustration. Even though in his letter to Bella he had said he would be thinking of her constantly, he had been trying not to dwell on their separation since he arrived back in LA. Alice saying her name was like a slap in the face to wake him up.

"Alice, please! I'm trying to deal with being apart from her at the moment, and this isn't helping."

"I know; I'm sorry, Edward, but I really think it is important you read this particular article."

"Why?"

"It might make things clearer for you."

"In what way?"

"Oh, Edward! Just read the fucking article. Now what's your e-mail address?"

Edward reluctantly gave her his address and hung up. He heard his phone 'ping' to alert him that an e-mail had arrived, but he wasn't able to open attachments on his phone, so would have to go to his study and use his Mac. He didn't get up from his seat straight away, but sat there drumming his fingers on the table, wondering whether to read the article or not. He hoped it didn't have a picture of Bella, as he didn't want to risk seeing her face again in case his heart couldn't take it, but then he remembered, he had left his heart in London, with her.

Eventually, as he couldn't stand the suspense any longer, he got up and wandered into his study and tried to switch on his Mac. The battery was totally flat as it hadn't been used for nearly three weeks, so he hunted through the drawers of his desk for the power cable, but had no luck. He then started searching through the filing cabinets; it wasn't there either, so he systematically went through all the shelves that displayed some of his awards and hundreds of unread books that were only there for show. Finally, he was on his hands and knees on the floor, trying to see whether the cable had been kicked under the furniture, but still no luck.

He sat on the floor with his head in his hands, wanting to scream in frustration, but then he thought, "Maybe this is a sign – I shouldn't be torturing myself like this." But by now, he was desperate to read what was in the article.

Just then, his cell phone rang. He checked who was calling before answering; it was Garrett.

"Hi, Edward. We've got the contract, and I'll think you'll be interested to read what it's got to say."

"Just give me the bottom line, Garrett; have I got a case against them?"

"You most certainly have. As I thought, the contract clearly states that all your earnings would be paid into a trust fund, and that you would get unrestricted access to the fund on your twenty-first birthday. Your parents were given authority to manage the fund through their accountants, and to access the fund for legitimate expenses and your day-to-day living costs and allowances, but all requests for payments to you and them from the fund had to be agreed by my office first."

"Why was that?"

"Your expenses would have been off-set against your earnings, which only Jasper and I could confirm. I have a record of every cent you earned during that time, and every payment from the account that was requested by your parents, so the IRS returns should show your earnings and expenses for each year, and these should match up with our records. Each return would also have had to declare interest on your savings, which would also be liable for tax.

"The IRS will have a record of what your parents and their accountants declared was in the account for each of the five years of the contract. My accountants don't have copies of your tax returns; however it's probable your parents' accountants have them, if they still exist. We can contact the IRS on your behalf and ask to see what your parents' accountants declared each year."

"What happened to the trust fund?"

"We presumed you had taken over control of the account six years ago when you were twenty-one. By my accountant's rough calculations, it should have contained between fifteen and twenty million dollars by then, possibly more. You earned over thirty million before you were twenty one, but your PR people and agents, and other hangers on, like me, would have had to be paid first. Then we worked out a rough calculation of what tax would have been liable and interest accrued on the balance, which is how we reached the fifteen to twenty million figure. You should have been given the account to manage years ago."

"My parents passed an account to me when I was twenty-one, with a quarter of a million dollars in it, which was just enough to rent myself somewhere decent to live and move out. They told me that the accountants had invested the money I earned, but the market had crashed and hardly any was left. At the time I didn't care; a quarter of a million was a lot of money to a twenty-one year old, and I'd just signed up to do a movie that was going to pay me four million, so I didn't question it; I just took the money and ran."

"The accountants didn't have the authority to speculate with the fund, Edward, so we've got them on that as well if they actually did this. However I suspect your parents siphoned your money into their own accounts, with the help of their lawyers and accountants, and are living off it now."

"Thanks, Garrett; this is what I've always suspected. My father gave up his business ventures when I was about thirteen and neither of my parents have ever worked since, yet they are still living exceedingly well. Until two days ago I couldn't be bothered to do anything about it, but I do now. I don't need this money as I've earned enough to live well for the rest of my life; but doing this will be my karma.

"I want revenge for what they did to me when I was a child, Garrett, and if it means breaking them financially I'll do it. Money was the root cause of everything despicable they did to me, so that's the best way to hurt them. I'll come by your office tomorrow, and go through everything with you. I appreciate you looking into this straight away."

"Don't mention it, Edward; see you tomorrow."

Edward was still sitting on the floor when he flipped the phone off and reflected on what Garrett had just told him. As he was imagining what his parents' reaction would be when they found out their 'son' was out to financially ruin them, his eyes wandered around the room. From where he was sitting with his back against the desk, he spotted a cable poking out of a canvas bag by the door; then he remembered the Mac had been picked up by his IT guy to have the anti-virus upgraded just before he left on the tour, and it hadn't been used or charged up since.

He got up and pulled the cable from the bag and plugged it into the Mac, then into the electric socket behind him. He waited for about five minutes for enough energy to filter into the computer, then pressed the start button.

He quickly got into his e-mails, and Alice's one was on the top of about twenty unopened ones. He clicked on it, then clicked on the attachment, which took about thirty long seconds to download and open up. He pressed print and watched as the document slid out of the machine, irritatingly face-down.

The document was in black and white. At the top of the page was a picture of Bella on stage, dressed as Katherina and holding a bouquet of flowers. It was quite a small picture, so Edward's heart felt safe for the moment. He started reading the article, and was also surprised to learn that Swan was not Bella's real name, but that couldn't be the reason Alice wanted him to read it – could it?

He smiled when he read about her lack of a boyfriend and her music choices, which were similar to his, and then he read the next question.

**Do you have any rituals or superstitions before you go on stage?**

_Yes, Donna. The first time I ever got a lead role in a play, my grandmother sent me a bouquet of flowers on my opening night. She carried on doing this until she died, which was only last year. I always buy myself a posy of the same flowers and have them in my dressing room on every first night._

**What flowers are they?**

_Well, my grandma was from Texas -_

Edward's heart stopped beating.

_- so she always sent me a small bouquet of yellow roses. After she died, I had a tiny yellow rose tattooed on my hip, as a reminder that she's always with me._

Edward didn't read the rest of the article.

* * *

**A/N**

**The penny drops; Edward knows it wasn't a dream. What is he going to do now? I think it's pretty obvious, ladies, don't you?**

**Until next Saturday - chapter 21 is pretty exciting, but chapter 22 is ... well, you'll just have to wait and see!**

**(evil cackle a la The Wicked Witch of the West)**

**Joan xx**


	21. Chapter 21

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - Regrets, Revelations and Raving Lunatics**

* * *

**London, Wednesday night, as Edward was flying back to LA:**

Bella took her final bow, while clutching a huge bouquet of yellow roses, and made her way off-stage with the rest of the cast. Her first night had been a triumph, with every aspect of her performance as near to perfection that it didn't matter. Her supporting cast of British actors had been as accomplished as their Broadway counterparts, and the audience of critics and other invited worthies of the British stage, had been responsive and appreciative. The applause was still going on after ten curtain calls, but the lights had been put on in the auditorium, signalling to the audience that ten curtains was enough, and they were all to go home.

Bella accepted the congratulations of the cast, as they hugged and kissed her as she made her way backstage. She, in turn, thanked them all, saying over and over she would be nothing without them, then escaped to the quiet sanctuary of her dressing room. Unlike the New York production, the cast were saving their 'first night' party until after Saturday's performance, as Sunday was a day off; so at least she didn't have to smile, look happy and be friendly any more that evening.

On her dressing table by the mirror was a small posy of yellow roses she had brought with her when she arrived that afternoon. Next to the flowers, in a frame, was a grainy photograph of her grandmother, Eleanor Swan, which was taken when she was about nineteen. Eleanor was dressed in traditional Shakespearean costume, and Bella smiled wistfully at the picture, wondering what her grandmother would have thought about tonight's performance, with the cast dressed in 1930's garb, delivering the sacred prose with Yankee accents.

Her dresser came in and helped her remove her costume, then took it away to be cleaned and pressed. Her make-up girl followed, and swiftly removed the layers of make-up that had taken forever to put on, then disappeared with a cheery wave and "see you tomorrow, Miss Swan."

She opened a drawer and pulled out her purse and cell phone, which had been switched off during the performance. She pressed the on button, and was greeted with a happy cheery tune, which didn't reflect how she was feeling right now. There were four text messages; one from her mother, which she would read later; one from Angela telling her to 'break an arm' (she meant leg); and two from Alice; the first to say she had taken her advice and would be going with Jasper to LA, and the second, sent just as Alice was boarding the flight, to say 'Good Luck' and that Edward seemed to be okay.

Bella slung the phone across the dressing table and then felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

"I want him," she whimpered out loud; then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed, allowing two days of regret and frustration to pour out along with her tears. After a while she stopped crying and sat up, then she flung her arms around herself, imagining it was Edward's strong arms around her instead, and he was holding her so tight that all the broken pieces of her heart were fusing back together.

"I love him," she whispered, as she stared at her tear-stained reflection in the mirror.

She picked up her cell phone and found Alice's text, and hit reply.

"I've been a f-ing idiot, Alice," she wrote. "I don't know what to do. Please help me."

She hit send, then put her head on the dressing table and wept quietly again, until there was a knock on the door to tell her that her car had arrived to take her back to the hotel. She quickly washed and dried her face, then put her outdoor clothes on, cursing that she hadn't brought any dark glasses with her, then picked up the large bouquet of roses and headed out the door.

"Are you okay, Miss Swan?" the chauffeur said when he saw her. Despite her efforts to clean herself up, it was obvious to anyone she had been crying.

"Yes, John," she replied. "I always get very emotional after first performances. I wish my grandmother was still here to see them; she only died last year and I really miss her."

"I'm so sorry," John replied, sympathetically. "I'm a granddad already, even though I'm sure you think I don't look old enough! I get so much joy out of my little nippers."

Bella giggled as John winked at her as he shut the car door, then she relaxed her head back against the soft leather seat and closed her eyes. Soon she would be in her cold, lonely bed, while Edward was thousands of miles away in sunny California. Suddenly, her career didn't seem so important to her as it did on Tuesday morning.

* * *

**LA: Thursday afternoon (eight hours behind London)**

Edward stared at his laptop and re-read the line again.

**'****When she died I went to a tattooist and had a tiny yellow rose tattooed on my hip, as a reminder that she's always with me.'**

and he knew.

He knew it hadn't been a dream; he _had_ made love to Bella, and suddenly he felt hot all over, like tongues of flame were licking his skin and he was about to spontaneously combust. A feeling of delirious elation overwhelmed him, and he wanted to shout at the top of his voice, but no words came to him that could adequately convey what he was feeling at that moment.

He recalled Bella standing in the half light of the doorway, telling him she needed him.

He saw her slipping her nightshirt off, standing in front of him naked, then cradling his head in her arms as he nuzzled her breasts.

He felt the weight of her when he pulled her on top of him, then re-lived kissing her deeply; experiencing a feeling of pure joy as she hitched her leg over his hip, effectively giving him permission to touch every part of her body, then he brought her to orgasm, staring in wonder as she fell to pieces in his arms.

The memory of the moment when he entered her for the first time caused Edward to whimper, as he relived the sensation of being inside her; moving gently at first, but gradually building to a crescendo of power and abandonment, before releasing inside her. Then the come-down, when he buried his face in Bella's hair, and knew, for the first time in his life, what pure happiness and contentment felt like.

"It _was_ real," he whispered to himself, as he looked in wonder at the photograph of the girl on the stage with her bouquet of flowers.

Edward got up from the desk and stared out of the window at the blue Californian sky.

"Am I dreaming this?" he asked himself; but he knew, for definite this time, that he was wide awake, and Alice's hypnotic arts had no hold over him anymore.

He turned back to the article and read the whole page again, just in case he had mis-read the critical line. But it was there in black and white. Bella had a tattoo of a yellow rose, and there was no way he would have known that if he hadn't noticed it on her hip, and had kissed it when he made love to her.

Edward looked at the clock on his Mac and the time showing was just after two in the afternoon, which meant it was ten in the evening in London. Bella would still be on stage, so he knew he couldn't call her until after the performance. He had already decided he wasn't prepared to wait almost three months to see her, or even three days. Three hours or three minutes was still too much time for him, but unless the Starship Enterprise's transporter was on hand to beam him from LA to London in an instant, the quickest he could get back to Bella would be by tomorrow evening, London time. It was a no-brainer though; he was going back.

"Shit!" he said out loud. "I don't know how to book a flight to London!"

He had never, ever, organised his own travel in his life, as it had always been done for him. He sat down in front of his Mac and typed 'Flights to London' into Google, and hundreds of options appeared in front of him. He panicked.

"Jasper!" he said, and flipped his phone open and called his number.

Alice answered instantly, as she guessed that Edward would want to question her about what she knew and how she knew, so she was surprised when Edward yelled down the phone.

"I need to book a flight – NOW, Alice."

"Where to?" Alice replied, innocently.

"You know fucking where; can you do it for me?"

"Yes, Edward. Just stay on the phone while I get the right Google page up, and while I'm doing that, go and get your passport number. I presume you want to fly first class?"

"I don't care; whatever flight is quickest, Alice. I'll fly any airline, any seat, any cost."

"Okay, let's see; United Airlines have got a direct red-eye flight from LAX; you can sleep all night then. Take off at nine this evening, thirteen hour flight, so that would land at Heathrow at ten in the morning LA time, which would be six in the evening in London."

"Book it."

"How?"

"Shit, you need my credit card details, hang on."

"Calm down, Edward. You've got plenty of time to get to the airport. Give me your card details; only pack a carry-on bag and your passport, and with luck you'll be outside the stage door when Bella finishes her performance tomorrow night. If there are no delays, you might even get to see her perform."

"It's sold out."

"I somehow think you could talk your way in, Edward."

Edward laughed. "Thanks, Alice, and thanks for sending me the article."

"Shut up, Edward, or we'll be timed out on the computer. Now give me your credit card details and your passport number, then get off the phone and book yourself a cab."

While Edward was running around his house collecting the essentials for his carry-on bag, and calling the kennel to tell them to hang onto his dog for a bit longer, Alice was dancing around Jasper's apartment in glee, and Bella was just going back on stage for the curtain calls after her second successful performance.

* * *

**Much earlier in London: Thursday morning**

Bella had slept fitfully after her London debut. It was just starting to get light outside and she was lying in bed, feeling physically exhausted, but her mind was working overtime. Her thoughts skipped between recalling incidents from her performance, where she felt she could have played a scene better, to why she had run away from Edward on Tuesday morning, when she could have stayed in Alice's bed, wrapped in his arms. She thrust her knuckles into her eye sockets, determined not to have another crying session like last night, fearful she was gradually turning into an emotional wreck.

She accepted that Angela was right; she hadn't given Edward the chance to prove he was nothing like David, and that he probably wouldn't have expected her to play second fiddle to his career. She had presumed he would make demands on her for time that she wasn't able to give, or for sex that she would be too exhausted for either of them to enjoy. She had immediately dropped the shutters without talking to him about what he would expect from her if they started a relationship. Now he had gone back to LA, and Alice had said that he seemed okay when he got on the plane, and that comment had really upset her.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was five thirty in the morning, so she had been in bed less than six hours. She needed at least another two hours sleep, so she closed her eyes again and made a concerted effort to switch off, but it was hopeless, as an image of Edward's face as he was making love to her was there, lurking under her eyelids, refusing to fade away. In the end she gave up and got up, showered, wrapped herself in a soft, toweling robe, and called room service to ask them to bring her up a fruit salad, pancakes, and lots of tea.

About an hour later she was brushing her hair when the hotel phone rang. She picked up the receiver and the receptionist apologized for disturbing her so early, but asked whether she would take an urgent call from her mother.

"That's strange," she thought. "It must be the middle of the night on the east coast; must be something serious. God, I hope Dad's okay."

"Thank you, yes, put her through," she said to the receptionist, and waited nervously for a few seconds, then heard her mother's high pitched voice that sounded quite hostile."

"Isabella!"

"Yes, Mom, what do you want, and why are you up so late at night?"

"I'm in Hawaii with your father; we're just about to go to dinner. You didn't answer my text; have you lost your cell phone?"

"Oh, right, sorry. I mean, I got your text after I came off stage last night and I was exhausted. I was going to reply today."

"Did you read my text?"

"No, why?"

"I wanted to know why you are avoiding David? He has traveled thousands of miles to see you, and you haven't had the courtesy to spend any time with him. I understand you told the hotel to tell him you'd checked out."

Bella bit her lip to stop herself telling her mother it was 'none of her eff-ing business', but instead she calmly said,

"Was there anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I am just recovering after my opening night with the R.S.C. in London; something I've been working towards my whole life. So, perhaps a 'congratulations' or a 'well done', something like that, wouldn't have gone amiss. You are my mother, and hopefully you should be proud of me."

"Don't be sarcastic and don't change the subject. Now, why are you avoiding David?"

Bella couldn't contain herself any longer.

"Because he's a weirdo, Mom."

"What on earth are you implying, Isabella?"

Bella drew a deep breath and thought, "What the hell, she's asked for it; so she's going to get it, with both barrels."

"If you really want to know the sordid facts, Mom, he only liked sex doggy style and he would only do it in front of a mirror, so he could look at himself doing it. And if you _really_ want to know all the juicy details, he never once got me off with his dick, which is tiny by the way. So the thought of living an unfulfilled life, with dick-less David who didn't deliver, didn't do it for me!"

"Sex isn't everything, my dear."

"Which is why I'm an only child, no doubt?"

"Isabella! David is a good man and a brilliant lawyer, and your father and I like him very much."

"Well, that's too bad, Mom, because I've met another good man. In fact, I've met a fucking amazing man, and he's everything I've ever wanted in a man."

"And you've no doubt had sex with him?"

"No, Mom, I haven't; what we have done though is made love, which is infinitely different to sex, and probably something you've never experienced. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

"Isabella!"

"Unless you're going to ask me about the play, or wish me good luck, I don't think we have anything more to say right now."

Bella waited about five seconds for a response, which didn't come, so she said, "Goodbye, Mom, enjoy your dinner," and flipped her phone off.

"Aaaaaargh!" she yelled, and flung her hairbrush across the room, then collapsed onto the bed and started laughing almost hysterically.

"Dick-less David who didn't deliver, didn't do it for me!" Alliteration in its finest form; my English teacher would be very proud," she giggled.

* * *

Bella decided to spend the day in the hotel, as she accepted it was time she re-charged her batteries. She went to the spa and had some treatments and basically gave her body some much-needed TLC. She spent part of the afternoon reading reviews on the internet, and they were five stars almost across the board. Even though she didn't pay much attention to paid critics, she was thrilled for the cast who had worked so hard. She also started reading a book that Angela had loaned her, and the afternoon flew by. By the time she had to start thinking about getting ready to leave the hotel for the theater, she was feeling much more relaxed and was not as tired as when she woke up this morning. Now she felt mentally and physically prepared for the evening's performance.

At about half past five, reception called to say her car had arrived to take her to the theater, so she gathered her things together and went down to the foyer in the elevator. As she was walking towards the main door, she could hear a disturbance happening in the manager's office, and security guards were milling about, ushering guests quickly through. One security guard, who was the size of a small mountain, shielded her as she walked past the glass door of the office, and stayed with her until she got in the car. She thought this was a bit odd, but didn't think any more of it during the drive to the theater.

Her second performance went very well, and the standing ovations were as enthusiastic as the previous night, and Bella went back to her dressing room feeling elated this time. She flipped open her cell phone after her dresser had gone, but there were no messages, which made her feel sad for a moment. But it was still early days, and maybe Edward was thinking about contacting her at the weekend, after her first few performances were behind her.

She heard a knock, and a muffled voice called that her car was waiting for her, so she opened the door to leave, without thinking there was anything amiss. Standing in the dim and narrow backstage corridor, with his arms stretched across the doorway, preventing her escape, was David.

"Hello, Isabella," he said, in a condescending and slightly menacing manner. "You've been avoiding me, haven't you?"

David pushed her back into the room and slammed the door hard behind him, then stood with his back against it with his arms folded. His posture was intimidating, and Bella's instincts warned her that she needed to be on her guard, as the David that was standing in front of her was not the person she knew from the past.

"What the hell are you doing here, David?" she hissed. "Get out before I call security."

"And how are you going to do that, sweet girl? I can't see any alarm buttons in here, so we're all alone; how exciting is that?"

"I'll call for help if you come anywhere near me. Now just get out, and don't come back."

"Oh, Isabella, you don't really mean that. I'm sure you've missed me, and now I'm here in this nice room, with a very big mirror. You like mirrors, don't you, Isabella? You like fucking in front of them? You like seeing me behind you, fucking you like an animal?"

"Get out, David, or I'm going to scream, and believe me, my voice is very well trained for projection. They'll hear it out on the street."

With that, David lunged at her and pinned her to the dressing table, banging Bella's head against the edge of the mirror. She tried to push him off, but he was tall and heavy and she was no match for his strength. He tried to kiss her as she was struggling, but Bella head-butted him on the chin, which only made him angrier. She could smell alcohol on his breath, and his shirt was stained with drink. His clothes reeked of cigarettes and a pungent cologne and she thought she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a large can of hairspray by the mirror, so she flung her left arm out, grabbed it, and whacked David hard across the back of his head. He shrieked in pain and loosened his grip on her for a brief second, which gave her enough time to see where the hole in the nozzle was. She pointed it at his face and sprayed a long jet of liquid directly into his eyes.

David's hands instantly let go of her and he shot them up to cover his face. "You fucking bitch; I'm going to kill you for that," he hissed.

Bella spotted a fire alarm panel by the door and flung the can at it, breaking the glass, which set the fire alarm off. All hell broke loose in the theater, as everyone who was left in the building started heading for the exits, which is when Bella started screaming. Within seconds, her dressing room door burst open, and two burly stage hands, who guessed what was going on, dragged David out into the corridor, pinning him to the ground, after accidentally-on-purpose thumping him in the kidneys and re-aligning his jaw.

The theater manager was quickly on the scene and called the police, then went into the dressing room to comfort Bella who was shocked, but otherwise unhurt apart from a small bump on the head.

"Do you know this man?" the stage manager asked.

"Yes. He's my ex-fiancé, I'm embarrassed to say."

Bella correctly guessed that it was probably David who had caused the disturbance in the hotel manager's office earlier, and she was furious they hadn't warned her he was still around. She was also livid with her mother, who had probably contacted David after their conversation that morning, so she could tell him that she hadn't checked out and was still at her original hotel. He had probably been demanding to see her, resulting in the confrontation with the hotel manager.

David had definitely lost all reason, and as he was lying on the ground, being held down by the stage hands, Bella couldn't recognize this person as the man she was once engaged to, as at this point in time, Bella thought he genuinely looked deranged.

"Were you expecting him to be here this evening, Miss Swan?" the theater manager asked.

"No. He's been hanging around my hotel trying to see me, but I've managed to avoid him up until now. How did he get to my dressing room?"

"We don't know; we're going to examine the CCTV and see if he got in with a legitimate ticket from the front of house or through the stage door. Someone is going to get their arse kicked tonight for allowing him to get backstage, whatever. I'm sorry we've let you down, Miss Swan. I assure you it won't happen again."

Bella smiled at the manager and told him not to be too hard on his staff. She didn't want anyone to get into trouble, as she knew how convincing and devious David could be.

Within ten minutes the police had arrived and took a brief statement from Bella before allowing her to leave with John the chauffeur. David was taken off in an ambulance, under arrest for actual bodily harm, but only after he accused Bella of an unprovoked attack after she had invited him into her room, and he was going to sue her for assaulting and possibly blinding him. The police called Bella the next day to tell her not to worry about any sort of counter-charge, as after taking her statement, they checked with her hotel, who confirmed they had ejected David several times from their premises, and twice that day.

Bella didn't get back to the hotel until well after midnight. As she closed the door to her suite, she was overwhelmed by the feeling that she had never felt so alone in her whole life. She leant against the door and slowly slid down until she was curled up in a ball, with her arms around her knees, and then she began to cry.

She guessed that Edward and Alice were probably somewhere over northern Canada by now, and Angela, she presumed, was back in her cottage in Cambridge. Bella just wanted to be hugged and comforted; to feel someone's, anyone's, arms around her, and for someone to tell her that everything was going to be all right. Instead, she was alone, in a lonely room, in a foreign city, and nobody was there to hold her.

Tears poured from her eyes as she accepted her situation was of her own making. If she hadn't walked away from Edward on Tuesday morning, leaving him sleeping in Alice's apartment, or if she hadn't been so clinical with her words in that note, he may have been lying on that bed in front her, waiting for her to walk through the door, and then he would have comforted her until the shock from being attacked subsided. She stared at the empty bed, willing him to be there, so she could run into his arms and he would hold her, and then they would make love all night long.

But he wasn't there, and it was nearly one in the morning before she stopped crying and got undressed. Even though she was exhausted, she took a sleeping tablet before she got into to bed, just in case his face haunted her thoughts again. But after face-planting herself on the most comfortable mattress in the world, she was asleep in seconds, before the pill had a chance to take effect.

* * *

**LA: Thursday night**

Edward was at LAX, pacing up and down the first class lounge. His flight had been delayed by over an hour already, and he was getting more and more agitated as the minutes ticked by. He wanted to meet Bella outside the theater, or inside if he could gain access, so he needed to get from the airport into central London quickly.

Then a light bulb lit up in his head – Leon! Taxis could get through London traffic faster than hired limo's, and if he could get Leon to meet him at the airport, then he wouldn't have to stand in a mile-long taxi queue. He had Leon's number in his wallet, so he fished the scrappy piece of paper out of one of the compartments and tapped the number into his phone. No luck, just one long tone. Then he remembered he had to put in the +44 code for the UK, so after smacking himself on the forehead, he dialed the longer number. After about ten seconds of dead silence it connected.

"Hello."

"Is that you, Leon?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Edward Cullen."

"Hi, Edward, do you need picking up? I'm near Piccadilly at the moment, stuck in early morning traffic."

Edward laughed. "I do need picking up, but I'm in Los Angeles airport; a bit out of your way."

Leon chuckled. "What can I do for you then; do you need picking up from Heathrow?"

"Yes, but can you get access to the VIP pick up point to meet me?"

"Sure, what time are you due in?"

"It will be early evening tomorrow, your time, but my flight has been delayed, so I don't know exactly when. I'll text you my flight number, so you can get a landing time."

"I'll do my best, Edward. Phone me when you land, I'll be there."

"Leon, can you do one more thing for me?"

"Course I can; anything for you. Our car chase through London is the talk of all the cabbies, and my daughter is just beside herself because she's going to meet you."

"Great, I need you to get some things for me so they are in the cab. I can't get them at the airport, so can you help?"

Edward told Leon what he wanted, then noticed that his flight was being called.

"I've got to go now, Leon; see you in about thirteen hours."

"No worries mate; consider it done."

Edward made his way onto the aircraft and prayed there would be no more delays. If everything went to plan, in less than fourteen hours he should be back with the girl he should never have left in the first place.

But in Edward's life, things never go to plan.

* * *

**A/N**

**So Edward is on his way to London. Luckily Dick-less David is in custody, or there may have been another hostile confrontation like the one at Bella's hotel. **

**What do you think Edward is asking Leon to get for him? You'll soon find out if you carry on reading. **

**The next chapter is very long (6k + words), so turn off the phone, throw the husband/ partner/ lover/ kids/ friends out the house/ apartment/ office/ garden shed; get yourself comfortable, get your coffee/ tea/ wine topped up, have a box of tissues ready, and hit that 'next' button.**

**Joan xx**


	22. Chapter 22

******__****************Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - Flights, Frustrations and Freddy Mecury**

* * *

Two chapters uploaded today** - ****read Chapter 21 first - PLEASE**

* * *

**London: Friday morning**

Bella lay in bed, thinking about the events of the night before when Dick-less David had attacked her. She felt like calling her mother to tell her what had happened and exactly what she thought of her, as she was positive it was her interference that had caused all this trauma. She guessed it was highly likely that her mother had encouraged David to come to London, by telling him that she still had feelings for him, which is why he had been so persistent. He had probably been anticipating some make-up 'doggy' sex while he was travelling, only to have his baseless and deluded expectations dashed as soon as he got here.

Bella imagined his frustration at not getting what he had crossed the Atlantic for, and also the humiliation of being frogmarched out of her hotel on several occasions, which had probably caused his irrational behavior at the theater. Even though there was no excuse for what he did in her dressing room last night, whatever she thought of David now, Bella knew he was not a violent man; his actions last night had been totally out of character.

If her mother had encouraged him, she had a lot to answer for, as he could easily end up in jail, therefore his career as a lawyer could be compromised. Even though Bella was desperate to tell her mother what she thought of her interference, she decided not to call until she had calmed down, as she was too angry to speak to her rationally.

Bella flipped her phone open and saw that Angela had left her a message last night to say she had returned to Cambridge yesterday evening, but would be back in London on Sunday afternoon and would love to meet up if she didn't have any plans. She tapped in a response, agreeing to meet her at her house in Primrose Hill, pleased she now had something to do on her day off, but making a mental 'note to self' not to succumb to temptation and drink excessively this time.

Disappointingly, there were no other messages, so she got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom and was stunned by her reflection in the mirror. She looked exhausted, as her eyes were still swollen from when she broke down last night. The shock of being physically attacked had only amplified the feelings of anguish and loneliness when she got back to her room, and as each day passed without being able to see or touch Edward, she was feeling more and more desperate.

She turned on the shower, then turned it off again. "No, you need a bath, Bella," she said out loud. So she started filling the tub, while trying to work out the controls for the Jacuzzi. After a few attempts of turning knobs and pushing buttons, she heard the unmistakable whirring sound of the jets springing into action, and the surface of the water started to bubble. She poured some aromatic oils into the bath, then stripped off and lowered herself into the foaming liquid, letting out a satisfied "aaaaah!" as she rested her head on the cushion. The tension in her back and shoulders gradually melted away as the pounding jets of water worked their magic.

Bella lay for a while with her eyes closed, imagining it was Edward's hands that were massaging her body. She was tempted to get herself off, but resisted, as she knew the feeling would be nothing like she experienced when she was in his arms. Her eyes filled up with tears again, and she tried to wipe them away with her wet hand, then realized what a stupid thing that was to do.

"What have you done to me, Edward?" she cried; then she sat up in the bath and whacked the button which turned off the Jacuzzi.

"This is fucking ridiculous," she said out loud. "Just man up and call him, Bella; I mean, what have you got to lose?"

Bella clambered out of the bath, and without bothering to dry herself, grabbed the complimentary white fluffy robe that was about three sizes too big for her, and wrapped herself in it. She hurried across to the bed, where her phone was lying on the pillow, and picked it up. She found Edward's number, took a deep breath, and hit the green phone icon.

Silence.

"Connect, you fucking asshole," she yelled at the inanimate object in her hand.

After a few more seconds, a message came through that Edward's phone was switched off and voicemail was not active.

"Noooooooo!" she yelled, then flung herself on the bed and curled up in a ball of anguish, totally unaware of course that Edward was already on the United Airlines flight, heading towards Heathrow.

* * *

**Somewhere over the Atlantic: Friday afternoon London time.**

Edward was almost tearing his hair out in frustration. His flight had been further delayed, because an inconsiderate passenger had gone into cardiac arrest while they were flying over Northern Canada and the plane had been forced to make an emergency landing in Toronto. This had delayed them for another two hours, so their new scheduled landing time in London was nine thirty in the evening. It would be at least nine forty-five before he got out of the airport, so Leon would be hard-pushed to get him to the stage door before Bella left after the performance, and he wasn't sure whether she had moved hotels. He was now wishing he had got an earlier flight.

He sat in his seat, drumming his fingers on the arm, wishing he could 1) sleep, or 2) have at least ten Jack Daniels to calm himself down, but he couldn't do the first and didn't dare do the second, as he didn't want to turn up at the theater reeking of alcohol.

He looked at his watch; four more hours to go. He wondered what Bella was doing now, and whether Alice had told her he was coming. He had asked her not to, as he wanted his arrival to be a surprise, and also he didn't want her to be distracted for tonight's performance. He was regretting that decision now, as she may have disappeared into the London night by the time he got there.

The female steward noticed he was awake and asked whether he needed anything. He shook his head and smirked. In the past, he would have alluded that there was definitely something she could do for him, and he had made use of his membership of the mile-high club on several occasions, but he was not interested now; Bella had changed all that.

He contemplated his impulsive decision to fly back to London and whether he was doing the right thing for Bella. Since the revelation that they had made love in Alice's spare bedroom, he just wanted to see her again and tell her how he felt, and reassure her that he would not interfere with her career. Carlo was right he thought; they were both young, and time wasn't an issue. The planet was a small place when you could afford first class travel; flying across the world to see each other for one or two nights was not a problem for either of them.

"What am I going to say to her?" he mused. It was too soon to mention the 'L' word, even though he was sure that what he was feeling for Bella was love with a capital 'L'. This was a new, fresh, exciting, impulsive, passionate love he was experiencing. Everlasting love, where you are confident that there is no-one else on earth who could take her place, that was possible, probable even. But at this early stage, and only having known her for little more than a week, he knew he would be a fool to feel one hundred percent confident that Bella was the person he would spend the rest of his life with.

But she had made him re-think his life, and he now knew he was capable of love and commitment in the future; something that he hadn't contemplated until last Monday night, when she walked into his room and told him she needed him. It was at that precise moment he felt, for the first time in his life, that someone on Earth had wanted him for himself; Edward the man, not Edward the star. What followed was an expression of love between the two of them; not just a sexual act.

He had been making a concerted effort to relax and, hopefully, sleep, but the possibility that in a few hours time he would be able to wrap his arms around Bella, kiss her passionately, smell the strawberry shampoo in her hair, touch her soft skin with his fingertips, feel the curves of her body as he pulled her closer to him; the anticipation of doing these things had prevented him from switching off.

He lay back on his comfortable first-class flat-bed and closed his eyes, and recalled his nighttime fantasy of Bella lying on white sheets, with her hair spread over the pillows, and then the moment in Alice's apartment when he realized his fantasy had come true, and Bella was there, on the bed, in the same position as he had imagined, waiting for him to make love to her. With that exquisite memory playing out in his mind, he finally drifted off into a restful sleep.

What seemed like only a few minutes later though, he was aware of the same female steward standing over him, offering him a warm face cloth so he could freshen up prior to landing. He looked out of the window, and saw the lights of London glittering below, and he could make out the curve of The Thames as it wound its way through the heart of the city. He prayed that in an hour or so, he would be face to face with the girl he had traveled half way around the world to see, and she would welcome him with open arms.

* * *

**London: Friday evening from now on**

Bella walked out of the hotel foyer and John the chauffeur was waiting for her. He tipped his cap as he opened the heavy car door and helped her onto the back seat.

"Good evening, Miss Swan. How are we today?"

"Nervous, John," Bella replied. "I'm more worried about tonight's performance than the first night."

John settled himself behind the wheel and glanced at her through the rear view mirror, and she did look tense.

"Why's that? Are your family going to be in the audience?"

"Ha! You must be joking. My parents are sunning themselves in Hawaii at the moment. They wouldn't cross the road to see me on stage, never mind half the planet. They consider the acting profession has the same social standing as prostitution, and they still think it's not too late for me to find a proper job."

"It used to be in the past," John chuckled. "Actresses were often prostitutes on the side, but we're talking a few hundred years ago."

"Well, if I fail at acting, then at least I've got what I'm sitting on to make money out of!"

John's eyebrows shot up in the air.

"Only joking," Bella said, and smiled back at John's shocked reflection, also via the rear view mirror.

"So, why are you so nervous then?"

"The theater will be full of true fans tonight; not just critics and _luvvies._ Also, an old man called Carlo will be in the audience."

"Ah, I see. So you're worried you won't be good enough for the famous wall?"

"You know about Carlo's wall?"

"Yes, I drive actors around all the time, and most of them say they would rather be on his wall than get an award. I've been in his cafe a few times and I've seen all the photographs. Are you worried you won't make it up there?"

"Yes and no, John. I don't mind not getting on his wall, yet; I'm still very young and inexperienced, so I've got plenty of time for that. But what he thinks about my performance matters to me, because I don't really take much notice of critic's reviews. Carlo represents the public in my book, so his response is more important to me than ones from paid critics, who are usually singing for whoever pays the tune, so to speak."

"Don't you worry, Miss Swan; I'm sure he's looking at his walls right now, wondering where the best place is to put your photograph, because you're going to be wonderful tonight. It'll be great to see a young face up there for a change."

"Thanks, John, but I thought I saw Daniel Radcliffe up there a few days ago?"

"Maybe he is now, but I haven't been in for a few years, and he wasn't there then."

Bella saw Waterloo Bridge come into view and knew she was only a few minutes away from the theater. She was nervous about tonight's performance, but it wasn't just Carlo's presence in the audience that was causing this feeling; there was something else in the air that she couldn't put her finger on.

She didn't feel anxious about security, because the theater had assured her they had reviewed their procedures to ensure her safety. Also, she had heard from the police that David was being allowed to leave the country, after she confirmed to them she wouldn't be pressing charges. He was booked on a flight to Boston at six this evening, and the police would be escorting him to the boarding gate, to make sure he didn't try and get back to London.

But there was something special about tonight; it was palpable. Bella didn't know what it was, but she felt it all around her, as though it she could reach out and touch it.

The car drew up at the rear of the theater and Bella stepped out. There were two security guards by the stage door where there had been only one last night, and as Bella walked through the door into the now brightly lit corridor, another security guard was there to greet her with, "Good Evening, Miss Swan," then he escorted her to her dressing room. "I'll be right outside if you need anything, Ma'am," he said, then turned his back on her door as she closed it.

"Jesus," she said. "Now I know how Michelle Obama feels!"

She sat at her dressing table and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her make-up girl would have to work miracles this evening as she wasn't looking her best. Three weeping sessions had taken its toll on her complexion, and her eyelids were puffy and red. Her skin wasn't in good shape, but at least that could be covered up easily. She looked at her phone and no messages had come in since the one she received from Angela, so she turned it off completely and put it in the drawer with her purse.

The make-up girl arrived and tut tut tutted when she saw Bella's face, but was discreet enough not to ask questions. She just said, "I think it's the extra-large trowel for your foundation tonight, Miss Swan!"

Bella giggled and sat still while her face was taken back in time from the 21st century to the 1930's, and when the dresser arrived, she wriggled into an outfit that had been made from original patterns from that era. Stockings with seams up the back completed the look, and Bella was ready to step out onto the stage for performance number three.

* * *

Edward's plane touched down at nine thirty-five. "Another five minutes lost" he said aloud, as he watched anxiously for the seat belt light to be turned off so he could jump out of his seat and get to the aircraft doors quickly. He turned his phone on, and as Leon was the last person he contacted, he hit the recall button and got straight through to him.

"I've landed, are you there?"

"Yes, Edward, and I've got what you wanted, plus some extras you might find useful."

"Really? Thanks Leon. I should be with you in about ten minutes. I'm being fast-tracked through the VIP area. See you soon."

Edward flipped his phone shut without looking at the missed calls, as he wasn't interested who was trying to contact him. But if he had looked, he would have seen that Bella had tried to call him while he was in the air. He just wanted to get off the plane, get into the cab, and get to London as fast as possible.

The doors opened and Edward was first out onto the walkway. He sprinted down the corridor, clutching his carry-on bag in one hand and his passport in the other. A member of the Heathrow staff waved him towards the VIP passport control desk and within seconds he was in the arrivals hall looking for the car park exit sign. He had been through this way before, but usually he just followed Jasper and wasn't interested in looking where he was going. He grabbed the first person he saw in a uniform and fortunately she directed him correctly to the VIP pick up area, and twenty seconds later he was outside in the fresh nighttime air looking for Leon's cab.

"Over here, Edward," he heard coming from behind him, so he turned and saw Leon hanging out of his cab window. "Get your arse in here quick," he shouted. Edward ran towards the cab, opened the door, threw his bag onto the floor, and as he was climbing in he yelled, "Put your foot down, Leon, we've only got half an hour."

Edward collapsed back on the seat, and there next to him were the items he asked Leon to get for him, plus some A4 sheets of paper covered with untidy writing.

"What are these?" Edward asked.

"Present from my daughter; might save you some time."

Edward looked at what was written on the paper and his face lit up.

"Your daughter is a superstar. If this works, she's got a trip to Hollywood out of this."

Leon laughed. "Alright, Edward, but I suggest you put a seat belt on before you start reading them, because as soon as we get away from the airport, you're in for the ride of your life!"

* * *

Bella walked off stage after her tenth curtain call and collapsed in the arms of the play's director who was hovering in the wings. She knew that this had been her best performance to date, even counting the ones on Broadway. The cast had gelled completely tonight, and the chemistry between Katherina and Petruchio had been electric, and that energy had spread to the rest of the ensemble and out into the audience.

Whereas Wednesday's and Thursday's audiences had been peopled by critics and invited guests, including the great and good of theater-land, some of whom were only there so they could boast to their friends at weekend cocktail parties that they had already been to see 'The Shrew'; tonight's audience was filled by true fans; ordinary men and women, young and old. The type who would stand in the pouring rain at The Globe, watching Shakespeare being performed as it would have been in the 1500's, in an open air theater exposed to the elements. They knew the words; they laughed and gasped; they cheered and cried; and applauded until their hands hurt, until the final curtain fell.

Bella was helped back to her dressing room, where she collapsed on the one and only comfy chair. When she was finally left alone, she sobbed with relief. This was the pinnacle of her career so far; this was what she had worked towards all her short life. She knew performances like this only happened once in a blue moon, where the cast to a man were totally immersed in their characters, and the prose flew off their lips without a moments thought or hesitation. She knew now what had been in the air tonight and wished that Edward had been there to share in the experience.

The dresser and make-up girl came in and helped Bella return to the 21st century, and they too had picked up the buzz that was reverberating backstage. After they left, Bella collected her purse and phone from the drawer and opened her dressing room door. In the corridor, the security guard stepped to one side, allowing her room to leave, and he followed her as she made her way to the stage door. Outside, John was waiting by the car, and this time he was surrounded by a crowd of cheering fans, waiting for autographs. After about ten minutes of signing books and programs, Bella climbed inside the car and John started the engine.

"Carlo's please, John; the defendant is waiting to hear the verdict."

John laughed. "I'm sure you'll be found 'Not Guilty', Miss."

"I hope so; the last thing I want tonight is to be found guilty of murdering Shakespeare!"

* * *

Edward was being slung about in the back of the cab, as Leon broke every traffic law ever written. They had been held up on the M4 motorway by an accident, and now Leon was hurtling his cab around the streets of London, trying to get to the theater without any more delays. Edward was trying to read the A4 sheets while the car was moving, but it was only when they were stuck at traffic lights he was able to really concentrate on the words.

"This is fucking impossible," he moaned. "How far away are we?"

"About fifteen minutes from the theater. It's nearly eleven o'clock, Edward, the show is over by now."

"Fucking traffic," Edward growled. "Keep going, she may not come out for a while. She's got to get changed and get her make-up off."

"Okay, well you just concentrate on what you're doing, and I'll see how many more traffic violations I can rack up in the next mile or so."

"Thanks, Leon. If you lose your licence, I'll personally hire you as my chauffeur."

"Thanks, Edward; that's a relief, but I might have to hold you to that."

Edward turned his attention back to what he was doing, and then he remembered a conversation he had with Bella. The goal he was trying to achieve suddenly became attainable. After five minutes, he leaned over to Leon and said, "I think I've got it."

"Well done; how come?"

"Well let's just say, if Freddy Mercury was still alive, it would be him I would have to thank."

* * *

John dropped Bella off outside the cafe and arranged to pick her up in an hour. She stood on the dimly-lit pavement and noticed that the usual sounds of chatter that filtered through the ill-fitting door couldn't be heard; the building was silent, even though the lights were on behind the now curtained windows. She stood on the step and gingerly opened the door, and was greeted with whoops and cheers from the patrons who had been waiting for her. It was like she had walked into a surprise birthday party. Standing directly in front of the door was Carlo with his arms out-stretched, and he clasped Bella to him, like she was his long-lost daughter. He kissed her on each cheek several times, then finally let her go.

"_Bella Bellisima_; you were magnificent! Carlo Junior, get the camera; she has earned her place on the wall. Choose your spot, **'_Bonnie Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom'._"**

Bella beamed at Carlo, who had just quoted one of Petruchio's most recognizable lines. Carlo Junior stood in front of them and took several pictures, as the patrons clapped and cheered.

Carlo led her over to the table where she had sat with Edward, and there was a sundae glass full of different Italian ice creams waiting for her.

"Wow!" Bella exclaimed, and picked the cherry off the top, and popped it in her mouth.

The cafe was packed with a mixture of actors and backstage staff from The National and The Globe, and the talk was all about the performance tonight being epic. Bella was glowing, as Carlo was enthusing over each scene, saying how amazing the whole cast were, but especially her. She had known tonight was going to be special, and Carlo's accolade further confirmed it.

When he had finally dissected the whole play, Carlo took an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"Edward asked me to give this to you. I saw him on Tuesday evening. Would you like me to leave you on your own while you read it?"

Bella stared at the envelope that had her name neatly written on the front. Without looking at Carlo, she nodded her head. Carlo got up and left her alone, while silently signalling to everyone in the cafe not to bother her.

Bella slid her finger under the flap and opened the envelope, then carefully pulled out the single sheet of paper and laid it flat on the table. Before she looked at the words, she glanced up at the gallery of famous actors and actresses on the walls around her. It seemed to her they were staring down at the letter from their lofty positions, almost as if they too were anxious to see what was written on the page, and what her reaction would be.

She took a deep breath and looked down at the letter and read,

_Bella,_

Carlo was watching her intently. He had put his finger to his lips and a hush fell on the cafe as Bella read the words that Edward had written. He saw her reach out for a napkin on the table, and just as he was preparing to go over to her to offer her some comfort, the outside door burst open behind him, and everyone in the cafe gasped.

* * *

Edward ran up the side of the theater to the stage door and banged on it. There was no response, so he banged on it again slightly harder. After a while he heard it being unlocked from the inside, and an elderly man in a security guard's uniform poked his head around the door.

"What do you want?"

"Is Bella Swan still here?" Edward asked politely, but slightly frantically.

The old man shook his head. "Nah, they've all gone; the last person left about twenty minutes ago. Only the cleaning staff here now."

Edward's shoulders slumped, and he thanked the old man and walked slowly back to the cab, defeated and desolate. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and rang Bella's number, but the call went straight to voicemail, as Bella hadn't remembered to turn it on when she left the theater.

Leon could tell from Edward's body language that they were too late, so he was going to suggest hitting a bar somewhere, so Edward could drown his sorrows. Edward climbed back in the cab and put his head in his hands.

"Where too, Edward?"

"Oh, fuck it, I don't know. Somewhere where I can get a drink."

As he uttered the word 'drink', he suddenly remembered the nearby cafe and the letter Carlo was going to give to Bella for him.

"Shit! It's Friday today, isn't it?" he yelled at Leon. "Carlo's cafe; down there, second road on the right. Put your foot down."

Leon pulled away from the curb, just missing a late night cyclist who swore at him, and headed down the road. He braked sharply when he saw the narrow street and turned right 'on two wheels and a door handle', slamming his brakes on when he saw the cafe on the left. Edward jumped out and burst through the cafe door.

The patrons in the cafe gasped, as most of them recognized the famous movie star who was standing in the doorway, but Edward's eyes were only fixed on the girl who had her back to him, who was crying into a bundle of napkins. He could see his letter on the table in front of her, and knew why she was weeping.

"Bella!"

Bella stopped crying immediately, and slowly turned around to see Edward, holding one yellow rose in his hand. Their eyes locked as he walked slowly towards her, and then he knelt by her chair, taking her hands in his and kissing them. Then he looked directly into her eyes again, and said,

**"****You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Bella,****  
****And bonny Bella and sometimes Bella the curst;****  
****But Bella, the prettiest Bella in Christendom****  
****Bella of Bella Hall, my super-dainty Bella,****  
****For dainties are all Bellas, and therefore, Bella,****  
****Take this of me, Bella of my consolation;****  
****Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,****  
****Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,****  
****Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,****  
****Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife."**

Edward spoke the lines as eloquently as any that had been heard on the stage that evening, either from Petruchio, whose speech this was, or from any of the other actors. You could have heard a pin drop in the cafe, as Edward recited the famous prose to Bella, replacing Kate's name with her own.

After he stopped speaking, he bowed his head and kissed her hands again, his lips lingering over her knuckles. Bella raised one hand and ran her fingers through his hair, like she had done after they had made love.

A few seconds later, the cafe erupted in cheers and whistles, but Bella and Edward were oblivious to what was going on around them. Carlo walked up to Edward, who was still kneeling in front of Bella, and whispered in his ear.

"If you're interested, I've turned the CCTV monitor off!"

Edward stood up quickly and Bella followed suit without speaking, and hand in hand they ran down the corridor and out through the Fire Exit door that had been wedged open. This time, Edward couldn't care who was watching them; he put his hands on either side of Bella's face and kissed her lips gently, then pulled away and looked into her eyes.

"I'm not leaving you again, Bella, unless you tell me to go. I promise not to interfere with your career, or make any demands on you. I just want _you;_ Bella the _girl,_ not Bella the actress. I want to care for you, because I think I'm falling in love with you. But I need to hear you say that you want _me,_ Bella, that you care about me, that possibly sometime in the future you might love me, for _who_ I am, not _what_ I am. But if you don't, you just have to say the word and I'll go, or I'll stay."

Bella looked into his desperate eyes and said just one word.

"Stay."

With that, Edward's mouth descended on hers in an open mouthed, frantic, passionate kiss. They clung to each other as though their lives depended on it, as the anguish and frustration they had both endured over the past four days, vanished into London's night air. Bella wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her off the ground, and he pressed himself into her hot center, as she moved sensually against him. They were both on fire, but they knew they would have to continue this elsewhere, so they pulled apart, but still couldn't completely let go.

Edward brushed Bella's hair away from her flaming cheeks. "Are you okay?"

Bella nodded. "More than okay. You came back, why?"

"Because you're real, Bella; you're the only person who has ever made my heart beat faster and who has touched my soul. Before you burst into my life I _was_ the person you described me as on the plane; I was an 'ignorant bastard'. I was ignorant of what life could hold for me if I threw away the armor that prevented me from ever giving or receiving love. I was a bastard, because I never had parents in the true sense of the word. They didn't love or care for me, so, until I met you, I never knew what any kind of love felt like."

"What do you mean when you said, 'I'm real', Edward?"

"Because you're not a dream or a fantasy any more. I thought you were for a while; you were too good to be true. This is real life now; you're here, with me, and I'll be there for you, as long as you want me."

"I want you, Edward. I didn't realize how much I wanted you until I ran away from you. I'm sorry I did that, as meeting you and being with you is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I'll never run away from you again. But how long can you stay in London?"

"As long as you want, Bella."

"I want you to stay forever, Edward, but I'm not thinking rationally at the moment. All I do know is that I want you in every way, and I care for you deeply. My career is important to me, but you are the most important thing in my life now, and I'm determined to make this work. Just hold me, please; I want to feel your arms around me again."

Edward wrapped his arms around her, and soon they were kissing passionately again, but eventually they broke away and just held each other as their breathing returned to normal.

"My driver will be here in a minute, Edward, and, oh God, I've got to walk through the cafe in front of everybody!"

Edward laughed, and then did something totally unexpected. He picked Bella up again and threw her over his shoulder, and boldly marched back into the cafe. As he picked up his letter, Bella's rose and purse from the table with his free hand, he said to the cheering patrons,

**Be patient, gentlemen, I choose her for myself; If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?"**

Carlo opened the cafe door and bowed like a servant as Edward walked through the tables of clapping thespians, and out to where Leon and John were waiting by their respective vehicles and who were by now chattering away like old friends. John waved to Bella, who was still dangling upside down over Edward's shoulder, and shouted, "See you tomorrow, Miss," as Edward deposited Bella on the back seat of the cab.

Edward introduced Bella to Leon as, 'Leon of the famous car-chase'. Bella shook his hand and gave him the name of her hotel. As the cab pulled away from the cafe, Leon was grinning from ear to ear, as the two young lovers disappeared from the range of his rear view mirror.

As Bella came up for air, after yet another passionate kiss, she spotted the sheets of paper Edward had been cramming from on the floor of the cab.

"What are these?"

"Just a bit of homework," Edward said, sheepishly.

Leon cut in. "My daughter is studying The Taming of the Shrew at college, Bella. Edward asked me to get him a copy of the play so he could learn something to recite to you, which I did, but Tiffany already knew some of the more famous speeches, so he was learning them in the cab on the way here from the airport.

"You memorized that for me, tonight?"

Edward nodded his head, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I'm impressed," she said.

"Oh, he had some help," Leon shouted through the screen.

"Who from?"

"Freddy Mercury!"

Bella knew immediately what he meant, and snuggled up to Edward.

"So you remembered what I said about putting the words to music?"

"Yes, Bella," he replied, as he kissed her on top of her head. "There was only one tune that was appropriate in the circumstances though."

"Oh really, which one was that?"

Edward broke into song.

"#Is this the real life, is this just fantasy.#"

Bella kissed him on his grinning mouth, then pulled her head back and looked him straight in the eyes.

"This is definitely real life, Edward, not fantasy," she said. "Does it feel real to you?"

Edward tipped his head to one side as if he was thinking, but as he wound his fingers into her hair in preparation for another passionate kiss, he replied,

"Fuck, Yeah!"

* * *

(ALMOST) **THE END** - ANOTHER CHAPTER AND AN EPILOGUE TO FOLLOW NEXT WEEK

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed these two chapters. I must admit, I loved writing them!**

**I'm sure most of you guessed Edward would be learning something to recite to Bella, but I'm sure he didn't expect to have an audience when he did it!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, I am so enjoying reading and responding to your comments. If this story is floating your boat, please leave a :). I respond to every review.**

**Still some more fun and games to come for our lovers and their friends in the final full chapter and epilogue, so see you next week for the last act, (sniff sniff).**

**Joan xx**

******(BTW, for my non-British readers, a 'luvvie' is a 'humerously depreciative term for an actor'.)**


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